Poetry And Me
I use poetry.
Sometimes.
To help unthink.
Outwardly there is-
A tapping finger.
Hurts, but not really.
Goes away for a bit when I write.
My mind doesn’t go right, sometimes.
Just strange, lingering…
Thinking. Lifting. Lingering.
I use poetry.
Goes away for a bit.
Poetry.
A vessel for eternity.
I use poetry.
Like the stars use outer space.
The poetry expands.
Like space,
Empty.
I use poetry.
Sometimes.
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