She lives the poetry she cannot write
Not her words,
A life that became hers.
She has written fiction,
Dreams and speculations;
Until all turned into a tale
She did not long to put on paper.
She writes the poetry she cannot live
Her words,
Gives life when it is not hers.
She has had desires,
Loss and tantrums;
Turned nightmares into tales
On any piece of paper.
She lives the poetry she cannot write
Not her words,
A love that finally became hers.
She has written fiction,
Heartache and expectations;
That embrace in her coffee place
He took away her pen.
