she could write a book
on hateful words people have said.
she could be a volcano
because she sheds so much red.
she could have her own river
for all the tears she has cried.
she could win an award
for all the times she has thought about suicide.
-k.d.
YOU ARE READING
life as we know it
PoetryBeing a poet is like being really sick. But instead of vomit, words come out. This is my word vomit.