made of poetry

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Once upon a time
A girl lived
To swallow all the rhymes
Poetry has to give
She devoured each line
And savored each word
Like a glass of wine
And a bowl of curd
On and on she went
Tasting each metaphor
Unraveling what they meant
And kept asking for more
Each piece
Filling her world
With stories
She watched unfold
With each one
She became more hungry
And asked for more
To satiate her intellectual
And  emotional cravings
Filling the bucket
Of her mind and soul
Until she can't contain them anymore
And everything spilled
She vomited words
And spit rhymes
And wept lines
But there is more left
There is always more left
From her every corner
From her eyes, her tongue
Her fingertips.
She could almost taste
The bitterness of regret
And the sweetness
Of dreams
And the saltiness
Of the tears.
She let them all out
And she realized
She's made of poetry.
While she read 
and consumed metaphors
And analogies
Poetic language consumed her too.




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I was trying to make rhymes but it ended up being a free verse. You know that feeling when words just come pouring out demanding to be written down and you know there's no way to manipulate them into a rhyming verse so you just leave them as they are? 

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