Sometimes my poetry is too busy,

like my high school locker jam packed 

with random chaos and hormones. 

My words fly of the handle like I can’t

all storm and rage and emotion, emotion!

…emotion, less robot, more human

or at least that is what I think. 

Sometimes it is good to slow down, 

examine the journey and just exist simply. 

Simply exist, living simply in the moment. 

Sipping sweet tea through a straw while 

I look into your eyes and realize that life…

life is okay sometimes and your eyes are alive.

And being alive is beautiful, and warm and brown.

Like sugar, because I picked up this packet

of sweetness and I think you dropped your name tag.

Sometimes my poetry is simple

and sometimes that is enough to make me smile. 


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