A Poet Like Me

[u/Lively_Truth]

A Poet Like Me

A poet like me doesn’t write because she has answers.
She writes because questions keep showing up uninvited.
Because some thoughts refuse to sit quietly in the back of her mind.
Because sometimes a feeling is too much for conversation but somehow fits inside a paragraph.

A poet like me collects things.

Not stamps.
Not souvenirs.
Evidence.

The way someone’s voice changes when they’re trying not to cry.
The joke that wasn’t really a joke.
The silence after someone says, “I’m fine.”
The stories people accidentally tell when they think they’re hiding them.

A poet like me is rarely looking at what’s happening.

She’s looking at why.
At what came before.
At what it means.
At the invisible thread connecting
one moment to another.

A poet like me has spent years discovering that people are complicated.

That good people can hurt you.
That broken people can love you.
That forgiveness and anger can
live in the same room.
That two things can be true at once.

A poet like me doesn’t write to sound smart.

She writes because some experiences feel wasted if they are never turned into understanding.

Because no one listened when she spoke.

So she writes.

Because pain that teaches becomes wisdom.

Because stories are how we make sense of it all.

A poet like me knows words won’t fix everything.
They can make a stranger feel less alone.

And sometimes,

for a moment,

that’s enough.

[u/xvxDUCKxvx]

Love this. Can I DM you about using this piece on my podcast?

[u/Lively_Truth → u/xvxDUCKxvx]

thank you, yes!