sometimes when I draw
I leave so much of me on the page
That I'm surprised I haven't disintegrated
Or evaporated
Or flaked off but by bit into the air
I leave a piece of my soul in everything I do
Like the essays I write that the teachers skim through
Or the notes that I sing, that are lost behind many
Maybe that's why I burn out so quickly
I spitfire into everything, never gently
I dive head first with a run-no hesitation-leap
Burning myself alive
Inside the fires within me
YOU ARE READING
genesis
Poetrygen·e·sis ˈjenəsəs/Submit noun the origin or mode of formation of something. "this tale had its genesis in the mind of a spitfire girl" a collection of poems written by me
