There is no poetic distance between me and this page

It is here I vent my love and my rage

I live and die by this pen from which I write

I catch sight of things I don’t normally see

and I find a clearer vision of me

I find empowerment from the force of creativity

in creating rhymes and verses from nothing

but ink and paper

they for now are my saviour

I gain insight

I vent my frustration

I give them form so I can let them go

without poetry I don’t know whether or not I would survive

it is poetry I think that keeps me alive

without I am nothing but words without form

a poem waiting to be born

but strangled in the womb of my mind