I have so much to say 

So let these words bleed blood that I am unwilling

Only a few represented 

Some unseen 

I may write and hide it from myself 

Spirals of poetry clog my shelf 

Negative pockets filled with things like bleach and shattered glass

Filled with ants and times my psyche was a mess

Positive pockets thankfully more prolific 

Dancing under summer skies 

Entangled in friendship

Words work for me 

They cut 

And they sew  

Destroying and 

Healing 

Poetry is something I must always do