…I can be whoever I choose

I look at myself in the mirror, me and my beautiful mess
tousled hair and ink-stained hands
total indifference to vanity’s demands
I am always just one step away from falling apart, chaotic thoughts
the kind of disarray that I would never wish away
the opposite of perfection
my pen is my salvation and my words are my weapons
a shield against reality, a doorway to infinity
in the realm of paper and ink I can be whoever I choose
I can be a goddess, a creator of worlds, a destroyer of hearts
I can be broken and bleeding, or write myself out of the dark
I see flowers now petals, slowly falling into the dirt
just waiting for the winds to rescue them
confetti moments, trying to capture them all
caressing each one with gentle hands as I break their fall
searching my soul for the words
for the feelings, that make up the whole
poetry born from the unconquered depths of my imagination
each with its own voice, unique and precious
poetry is a language that only the brave can speak
for it takes courage to open your heart
to lay yourself bare for all to see and judge
a poet must be fearless, confident in their words
unafraid to share their truth
for poetry is not perfection, it is honesty and vulnerability
it is in and of itself, both power and beauty
inspiring understanding and connections
that may never be fully understood
except in the poet’s heart, and this is our art
© Ann Bagnall