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The words, they come

Just past midnight

When I'm alone

In yellow light

That beams on me

And whispers lines

Of truth for me

To then make mine

In beauty I

Have come to hold

As powerful,

More than the old

Riches man finds

And clings too still,

As if that could,

As if that will

Satisfy them

And what they seek;

They crave a joy

They've been in need

Of for too long,

Too many years.

I've found it now;

I've found it here

In words I write,

These stories told,

Deeper than lines,

Richer than gold,

Special to me;

I can't describe

How they lift me;

They let me fly

When all my fears

Are coming true

And I have no-

Where to turn to,

Words are my friend;

Words are my soul;

When I can't rise,

I ride on the should-

Ers of their forms,

The truths they speak;

I don't know why

They strike through me

In such a way

I can't explain,

Can't wrap around

It in my brain.

There's something there

I long to see

And understand

More completely,

But if I can't

Ever make sense

Of what has made

My words so dense

And rich in truth,

Full in meaning,

I will still have

Strength I'm gleaning

When I write words

And make them mine;

That's all I need

To always find

The hope I need

So terribly

As life breaks down

Unbearably

With all the stones

And fire it hurls,

The whipping winds

That shout and whirl

A storm around

My weary brain;

I can't break through,

Can't beat the rain

In strength of shout,

My voice gone dead,

Only the words

Left in my head,

And they pour out,

Right to this page,

With pain and love

And joy and rage

Laced in the lines

I etch tonight,

So pure, so deep,

So void of light

But bright somehow

In what they say,

The story told

That would have stayed

Untold had the

Words not been born,

But here they are,

Tattered and worn

But plainly true

In all the pain

I relive as

They leave my brain,

But it's worth it,

Yes, every time,

Because they're real,

Because they're mine

And only mine,

Always will be

Especially

Special for me,

'Cause who am I?

Without the words;

They've freed the wings

Of this caged bird

And let her soar

When she'd lost hope;

They gave her breath,

Those words she wrote.

She breathes out words,

Straight from the heart;

They heal, restore,

Rip her apart

In all the ways

She'll ever need

To keep the fire,

To remain free

With songs to sing

So silently

But ever strong,

Just like her wings

That carry her

To all the dreams

The words have built

For her to see

Within her soul

That will believe

Forever un-

Til she achieves

Just what she has

Set out to grasp

Within her hands,

'Cause then, at last

She'll have become

The girl she knows

Lives inside of

Every small bone

That makes her her

And lets her write

Those words she loves

Just past midnight

When all the light

Is left on her

And she's alone

But not deterred

From chasing dreams

And painting stars

In words that hold

Her every scar.

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There are no words for what poetry has done for me, how special it is to me. My poems tell of my dreams, and poetry IS my dream. It has become my dream, a dream I never would have imagined before. Words are powerful. They build up; they tear down; they're beauty; they're pain; they're memories, good and bad; they're wonderful, aren't they? We wouldn't be human without them. And, I wouldn't be ME without them. I need words, for my mind and my heart and my ambitions. Who am I without them? I am not sure. But I don't wish to find out. I will always have words, one way or another. They are one thing I will not let life take away from me <3