Maybe Poetry Would Find You

A poem

If you surrendered, if you let pain spill out from your broken heart, maybe poetry would find you again.

Perhaps if you stopped pretending you have not drowned in despair the words would come back to your mind.

But you are a scared little girl, aren’t you, my dear gal? You try to wrap your mind around the void and the memory of every single time you weren’t loved comes back to break you.

You tremble just to think you might be easily replaceable, particularly nonessential.

But, maybe, if you dropped the charade and embraced the terror in your soul; if you accepted you are alone as darkness swallows you whole — perhaps you would learn to scream you wish you were someone else, somewhere else, anywhere but here and now.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting, dear; but poetry won’t come to you as long as you keep on trying to wall the horror out of your heart.

You cannot escape the monstrosity of the sorrow that awaits you — so let it come, let it destroy you… and then, once the old you has died, let poetry whisper the sweetest words of comfort as you learn how to, for the first time, be who you truly are.