by ZURI
Can you remember those first words
that the
brand
new poet spoke, bright eyes
wide
as she looked
at you
and tried to explain
herself?
She’s just searching
for
real
in the
abyss
of
lies that lay
down
with her
before bed
and wake
with her
every day.
Did you
remember
what she said?
The words she blew across the room
hopefully
something
she said
landed
on your
skin
or
got under it.
Maybe
the way
she took
time to
break
words
apart
or the tears that
might
have slipped
when she
told
you about
her past, or what
she hoped
for in the future
or the shit
she deals with now.
And who is she to hope
that telling you
what
she feels
in
encrypted lines
will make a difference?
Why should you
be the judge
of a new poet
standing in front of what might as well be an
empty room?
I guess
it doesn’t matter
because it is up to you.
Are you
gonna give this poet
what she needs?
To breathe easy,
to plant new seeds?
Or are you planning to pass her off?
New poet
needs a new future.
Are you ready?
Because I am.