My First Poem
...is called “Gothic Love.”
I often forget my poetry is me, naked on this page - the blood, guts, bones, and whatever else my soul reveals to me when I stop worrying how I look in the mirror. I no longer recognize the vulnerability that I felt when I shared my first poem. Yet I remember the place, a coffee shop in Sacramento. It took a while for me to summon the courage necessary to speak. Afterward, the rush of emotion compelled me to flee the scene.
Published in
- The Invitation · September 25‹ Instrument of LoveBeyond Love Stories ›