sometimes i honestly forget why i write poetry specifically. maybe it is the glory of breaking rules but once you learn how to break them only once you are only creating new rules. so, sometimes i honestly forget.

but— eh. i think i write poetry to break rules and create an illusion of freedom. but recently i stopped thinking of it that way. at some point i realized that i was not writing poetry but instead tracking my stream of consciousness in broken little pieces, organizing them because there’s a certain insecurity and vulnerability that comes with stream of consciousness. so, i rhymed & whatnot, schemes and patterns … dunno if that’s really how i think. is it?

who thinks in shards & who stands or sits
on busses with no
eyes on the road (ie. streets):

i think sometimes i do and pressing enter
is making a list,
calling names and flourishing words
is making a justification,
paragraphs and patterns make it consumable
art.