compelled

i don't know if you'd call it brave, so much as i'm compelled to do this. to go here. to enter these places. i've been awake most of the night, my mind awash with poetry. my heart pounding. this doesn't happen every day. sometimes it feels like i'm a fish swimming in poetry, emotion, they are the same to me.

i try to explain it, but it's hard to describe. and my subjects divide men.

this is not my issue to sort out. my job is to write.

do i do what i do for poetry. no. but i write poetry from my life. from the feelings. from the experience.

when someone finds themselves in my works, in my life, i say,

this is how it happens for me.

and they look around and say,

i see.

because it is something to be completely caught up in poetry.

it's probably a bad thing.

but i cannot, would not change it now. for anything.

i said last night,

i am completely me. this is who i am.

i understand.

she said.

but it doesn't make it any easier to be around, as my best friend told me. fortunately, i find those people who don't arc out on emotion like i do. unfortunatly i find those people who don't arc out on emotion like i do.

what's the answer? how do i fix this?

i don't know that it's broke. i don't know that i'm not exactly where i'm supposed to be at the moment.

i don't know where i'll be tomorrow. but today, i'm here.

and the world is awash with poetry.

and i am going where i was once afraid to go.

i never ask anyone to come along, i leave the doors open all along the way. i know others can't abide my journey, that is so okay.

but i must go.

do you hear me.

i must. go.