Poetry saved me

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Poetry is a beautiful thing.

It’s a creation of expression.

A creation where my lips may not be moving but my fingers are writing something magical.

Magical for me at least.

I am letting go of things that verbally, I didn’t even know exist.

Poetry saved me a couple times from letting go of my dreams, my future and let alone myself.

Poetry saved me when I was dealing with trauma only the world knew behind closed doors.

A poem can rhyme, can be disorganized, can be shaped and twisted around through syllables, sentences, words.

I paint pictures with written words.

I tell stories only my brain can unfold.

Poetry saved me.

Poetry is music.

Music that fills my ears with jazz and romantic words.

It’s my reminder that I do believe in true love.

I write about love and realize that word means something to me.

No matter how much I try to pretend it’s just a word.

Power hides inside my fingertips.

These written words one day maybe my legacy.

Poetry saved me.

Poetry held me.

Poetry will be the legacy I will leave behind one day to the children I still don’t know.

It is the gold I hide in my treasure chest.

Poetry is more than just words written in cursive and ink.

I have a relationship with it that not many will truly ever know.

Poetry,

Poetry,

Poetry…

My first love.