Poem : disappearing act 👀💀
The first time I ever felt like a poet it was 1 am. The light of the full moon was beating down all over my body, as I was drowning my sorrows in poetry.
As each word rolled off my tongue and out of my lips the pain started to fade.
You see , I dulled the pain by using perfect metaphors as antidepressants. This was my therapy. This was my escape and as I set my pen onto paper this was my disappearing act.
I faded away trying to hide from the one person who did me wrong. And all the heartbreak and sorrow that was to come with it.
Everything.
But this wasn't poetry anymore it was my coping mechanism.
This was the only place I could hide from the storm. Crazy thing is you love chasing storms, I was a hurricane and there was no question how we always found comfort in our destruction. You were the storm of all storms. You'd tear things to pieces, and I was your favorite thing to shred.
The night I became a poet, your clouds were rolling in, and my cheeks were burning from the tears I had shed.
I looked at the clock and it read 1am. At this time I put all my emotion into every syllable, every consonant, every vowel, every roll of my tongue.
I felt myself finally become something more than just a piece of wasted space.
I became art in the most beautifully distorted way.
All the lost pieces of myself finally were found and I became whole again. I didn't need you. I needed myself and my words. I did not need you...
Like I said this wasn't poetry anymore it was my coping mechanism. A new way of life.
