Is it love that is worth my poetry, when the only reason I'm not breaking ties with you is because, I owe you debts from when you chose to stay by me? My poetry is my ultimate truth, it is the only things I wanted to say in conversations I did not want to have, but couldn't say because I denied me the power to bring myself over how you ruined me with all the words you said. My poetry is pious, it may not be as beautiful as a smeraldo from a Gibson Garden but it is pious because, truth when told is strength beyond any power and my poetry is my greatest truth, it is my answer to everytime you ask me how I allow myself to live, even though I am a practical faliure. My poetry is my heartbeat and I can't believe I let it beat for my ink blood to pump your name.
