There are people who call me that.
They say poet,
I say writer. Smile.
Laugh it off.
But they will always say poet
because a handful of poems
than a thousand eloquent pages
am not a poet.
I am a writer whose words work
then twist in her head, knot her tongue,
set her fingers fumbling
and working in disjointed sentences
frustrated, tearful, lost,
victim to her brain and the words,
that refuse to do their job.
I am not a
But if words come out in rhyme
I cannot deny them.
If words come out fractured
I can only accept them.
If words come out tangled
I cannot undo them.
I am not a poet.
(Original formatting at my space, and more words, here.)
and it, erm, pushes stuff up in a way that makes me look like a 19th century prostitute
possibly my favorite thing on the internet right now.
this is adorable and ridiculous. haha I wiiish I could get my boobs to look like that.
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