There was 14 years of life in a person, a girl, somehow a person

There was 14 years of breathing in the lungs, in and out, over and over

Putting pencil to paper, 14 years became 14 life times and

Breathing took 100 years

Love in the syllables and pain in the words, this was new

Something worth writing about

There was 14 years of carving an artist out of

Stone and broken chisels

Finding her in the

Pencil and paper

Hate in the letters and  forgiveness in the punctuation

Poetry was something to give to

Poetry was the last 14 years of breathing

The last 14 years of a person, a girl, somehow a person

On a page

Learning to make sense