I'm not a poet. not even close. but there's something about yearning to feel things I've never felt before that makes me want to twist my words and emotions and tie them up like little bows on a fig tree just to see them take form. words that are real enough to show that such feelings exist, but also real enough that I know how unreal it is for me to have it. I often write about true love. Other times, about feeling like I belong somewhere. A lot about being taken care of, of being heard, of being respected. I will write about my feelings until they're not bound by the shackles of dread and hopelessness, until they're no longer accompanied by yearning like the clinging smell of smoke but rather just the feelings themselves. until then, for myself and my fig tree - I'll remain a poet.
