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We are just mere vessels
that poetry flows through
Poetry is my Mistress and I her poor slave
she loves to use me for her nefarious intentions
by way of ink blood tears and cum
she flows through me
and poetry
rewrites
my fluid
soul
She is a mighty beast ~ that poetry
when she takes over we are lost
to the words verbs and the
adjectives of the soul
And yet...
When poetry
isn't in our veins
burning singing
and clawing through
We beg and cry and bitch and whine
For another taste of her heroine
Addicted is an understatement
We beg poetry
to kill us
And rebirth us
to live immortal on the page
We poets bleed deeper
With a pulsating rhythm
of heated words
Static charged
sparks of thought
cling to the end
of my tongue
We devour the essence
of ones parted thoughts
We thrust into the depth
of the human soul
Poets bleed deeper
She is perpetually here ~ that poetry
Her blood reeks with the scent
of ingenuity
Pure and adulterated
there is no right or wrong
only write
But when poetry is absent
the words evade us
the thoughts spiral
and we can’t grasp one
Just
One
We scream in frustration
and strangle the pens
and in our vain attempts
at pouring our souls
onto the page that will forever
hold the secrets captive
She will show herself
devour our spiraling thoughts
and one by one return them
spitting them in our faces
Until we cave
under her pressure
finally we are
complete
with poetry
Our blood is
indecipherable
from ink
We flow as one
You see
We poets
bleed deeper
Samantha Pruitt
Virginpoet
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