Disclaimer
I'm sorry that I need
to apologize first.
I'm sorry that you find
my words powerful
that they hit you in
your heart
that they move you to
tears
that you love them
anyway.
I'm sorry that I write
too much truth and not enough lies.
I'm sorry that I can't
write cherry sno-cone on a hot summers day,
my writing has always
been too wild blackberry:
warm, black and full on
top -
but red underneath,
it packs a punch that
will hit you,
just when you think it
will go down easy
I'm sorry
that you can't just
read me like a comfort novel.
Sorry that I always
change the punch line,
or take it too far, I
am always the outlier.
My words skirt the
fringes of comfortable
like watching
a storm roll in:
there are stanzas that
are showers
with lines like
lightning strikes
I have a knack
for catching people
without their umbrellas
and I'm sorry if I
leave you in the rain.
I know thunder
is no way to
communicate a gentle message
but sometimes
it's the
only way
to let the past roll
in.
I'm sorry that I
sometimes use the word fuck.
Sorry that anger
sometimes seeps out through my pores
hits the page, stains
the paper like a watermark, I'm sorry
that this cannot be
erased.
I'm sorry about my use
of commas.
I know I use them incorrectly,
but I taught myself to
write.
At the age of 14
teachers didn't know
how to help me,
gave me 100s in my
college classes,
told everyone I broke
the curve
posted my grade on the
board,
used me as an example
to all the college sophomores,
told them they had to get their shit together
'cause the kid still years away from driving had them beat,
they made me hated
in my braces, and acne,
and big glasses,
my mother asked me if I
didn't think
I should make my poems rhyme,
critiqued my use of semi-colon, told me
I was just Too Much,
and I'm sorry
I need to bring them
into this, but
my words
have sometimes brought
me trouble
my power
has sometimes come under attack
and to hear my voice
you need to know:
I'm sorry I need to
apologize first,
but my words are not a
choice.
They are pressure
waiting to escape
I let them out slowly
like loosening a valve,
they are a piece of my
soul and I'm sorry
that I can't just hand it over, but
their initial
release is the piece of creation
that feels a little
like
dying.
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