I am the poet
Who doesn’t write poetry.
I write dreams in ink
And stories,
The stories that live in my heart.
I am a player, a lover, a fire eater
And not a firefighter.
I crave peace in my mind
And I find it when
I find peace in my soul.
I rise on the blank page –
Oh, how I love it!
Oh, how it consumes me.
I love how it loves me,
I love the poetry that writes me.
Although for the most part
I am the poet
Who doesn’t write poetry.