I used to hope I was a poet

String words together and make phrases

All of it seemed so beautiful

I tried to be a poet

But my strings were frayed 

My phrases came apart at the seams

All I could see

All I could feel

Utter defeat

I found solace 

In Langston

In Maya

In Edgar Allan

Poems that felt like home.

I tried again

With purpose

With determination

With a thesaurus 

I was living through paper

I tried to be a poet

My strings less frayed

My phrases patchwork

I was in love

I still try to be a poet

Because love knows no end

Because my soul thuds with each syllable

Because it makes me catch my breath

Untill all I can hum is

"Be still my beating heart"