my year in poetry slam
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January was lovely
Crisp and cool and clear
December was so dreary
Shrouded in mist and fear
I can’t recall what happened
In my eyes, the world has grown
Satisfied with being owned
“Who cares?” is the phrase of choice
We have a say, but not a voice
Our minds are but the mirrors of
You were always there
To imagine life without you was impossible
Because it was all I ever knew
So now that things are different
I have learned how to appreciate
In the beginning, I felt like dying
Everyday was the same filled with my constant sighing
I could not bring forgiveness to myself
I am alone
I settled for someone who only brought me stress
She'll never get anywhere the way she acts, they all say.What's her problemShe thinks she's to good, they all whisper.It's all about her
Change is inevitable
It can haunt us
Like a demon in the night
You can try and take flight
But somethings you must grow with
From years of being a witness
To the abuse, it was all a mess
You always found writing as a form of comfort,
and that is something that we still share in common.
Nothing is more cathartic than intertwining ink and paper into a beautiful ballad
This was a year of firsts.
First time recognizing the abuse, first time moving out of the house.
First time really feeling like I didn't have a home.
Do you know what it feels like,
To run your fingers through the freshly shorn grass
Behind your ears,
For the first time,
And to feel the steady crackle of your heartbeat,
Burning like a hearth, like home.
