Poem #2

He is The Reason

 

You can’t walk into my thoughts like you own them

Stride into my life, demand, “Write for me”

And expect me to follow your orders in

A swaddle of submission.

 

Still, I write for you.

Anyone who says, “Writing is easy,

Write me something,” has some nerve.

So I’ll tell you where I get my ideas:

A boy. In the depths of my mind,

He is the person supplying me with my crazy ideas

Before I even pick up the pen. The reason why

I am so talented is because of him.

 

I knew him ever since I was little

Writing my first story.

I didn’t understand why I was so talented.

“It’s because of me you are talented.”

His voice said. His voice is eerily gentle

In a commanding way. Like a gust of wind,

On a hot summer day.

 

That was the first time hearing his voice.

I followed his orders and eventually

Came to a finished story. It was weird

It was like I was possessed

I couldn’t control the way my pen flew across the paper.

When I was finished; it was almost euphoric.

I was washed over with a concoction of adrenaline

And ecstasy.

 

I told my peers of the boy living in my head

I told them what he makes me do.

I told the adults he only comes to me when I’m not doing my best.

I told them that he says I’m special.

I only gotten mocked and diagnosed

Mentally unstable.    

 

Nobody understood

Him because he is a part of me. He said

I was made for him and vice versa. So, I am the only one

With him as a companion for life.

At least, to me. And the ideas that had been

Transported

On to this paper are because of him.