I hide in poetry

It’s all whispers that allow you plausible deniability

Oh my darling that wasn’t my pain

It was simply the blank white page

That forced that sorrow out of me

If my words were soaked in blood

I could tell you that they themselves are bleeding

Let them lie down there

That chalk outline I shot my own thoughts down

Out the tips of my fingers

I push them away so I can say

I am happy it is only my words that feel worthless