What’s poetry?
Your insides gurgling up to your mouth.

Your emotions pressing themselves
Against the blown glass
That is your heart.
Knowing that the glass is fragile,
But showing themselves to everyone looking.
Ready for an escape.

An urge,
Because a rush of your thoughts
Are standing next to each other.
Finally finding the right pattern and words
To piece together something-
That no one will understand completely.
Abstract.

A story thought up.
Not by your mind,
But by your sub-conscience affected by
Your senses.
Your mood.

A way to communicate to people.
To mutter about a subject
That hasn’t yet been introduced to the conversation of life.

A way to stick yourself into a situation
That only you know how to depart from.

And the end,
Is proud.
Accomplished.
Personified.
Defined.
Un-muted.
Alive.