Rhymes either bolded or italicized i got tired
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brittanyandherwords.svbtle.com

This poem is about me
You might think that it’s not a big deal but
I’ve been writing since
pause
I didn’t remember that
punctuation 
quotations
indentations 
were the way to make stories grammatically correct 
I didn’t care
I just knew how to get my stories out there 
typed up on a page

in the fourth grade
I wrote a poem about the color Robin’s Egg Blue
and I knew I loved the way words sounded
I read the poem itself the other day
and I was blown away
how a ten year old me could
pick such beautiful syllables 
within the curl of a cursive script
-we got to use fancy computers that printed on a laminated strip of paper

And there I go
telling stories
but not about me
you see I wrote about
the twenty six letters without a meaning
the delicate wrists bleeding
colors
scrabble thoughts
broken hearts
pieces of friends

but never

about the nine year old that struggled with pornography 
the 12 year old that struggled with homosexuality
the 13 year old that dealt with depression self harm anxiety 
the 14 year old that dealt with first love and promiscuity 
the 15 year old who dealt with fake gods and cried herself to sleep and 
the 16 year old who said
STOP
the roller coaster ride of christianity 

There was a little girl  inside of me 
who had a dream but little girl never knew that
dreams could fall asleep

Wake oh wake oh sleeper
it’s time to hear your 
Master
Your Father
The one who loves us all

THIS POEM IS NOT ABOUT ME

It’s about He who dwells within me.
about the one who writes the words that flow from my fingers
the one who lingers inside my heart
because 
oh my God
what could lure me out of the 
dark in which I was so bound in
I am now found  in light in life
what could change my mind that was so rooted 
in who I’d become 

When Darkness wraps its hands around my throat
hoping I’d croak 
pulling me father
striking me harder than any time prior
what on earth is in front of me
that Evil would try to kill me rather than reaching it


This poem is not about me

It’s about God sent friends who 
shed tears
about my makeshift home in a closet for 4 years
who grabbed my hands and never gave up on me
took me shopping for a brand new wardrobe
now I’m clothed in glory
I shopped at the store where the Most Holy sews our 
purple garments of royalty  
what princess refuses her crown

This poem is not -about- me

It’s about my God
My friends
Therefore, this poem 

Is 
Me. 


Blushing Dawn Poetry