It Started

It started

As a hole

I wasn’t not sure

How deep or dark

          It will get


Doubt gets

Trapped and soon

It becomes a cavern

of boiling poison

It burns under my skin

waiting behind the flood gate

of my eyes


A mountain will grow above

It and become ominous to

Prevent people from discovering

the hollowness and instability



Undiscovered species teem in

It’s murkiness

I drag one up by the tail

When someone asks whats wrong



It can no longer hide

Through poetry

I’ve begun examining petri dishes of

It on top of white paper

Where nothing can hide


It now has a name


Because of poetry, I got help. Because of poetry I will no longer suffocate from the fumes of the poison. Because of poetry, I am learning to grow crystals in the cavern.


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