Poet

You say I am a poet.

I tell you I am nothing.

You say I craft words.

I tell you I build nothing.

You look confused.

Imagine how I feel,

that with a mere smile,

the raise of an eyebrow,

you push the words

right onto me.

That's right!

Don't you see now?

I am your paper.

You are 10,000 words

waiting to be written

100 feelings

waiting to be had.

I lay myself bare to you,

an empty page,

just awaiting the

spill of your ink.