They Told Me To Write (2 versions)

They Told Me To Write

Jessica M.

They told me to write

Poetry,

That maybe the void in me

Would speak into the darkness,

So I slashed my palm and took my pen

Because it has to be done in blood,

They say,

And in rhyme and meter.

And there are these things called feet

But they aren’t feet

Because in poetry, nothing is what it is,

But all symbols and imagery.

It has to come from a dark place,

They say,

And it must be done in one sitting

Crystallized hard and clear and perfect,

And if it doesn’t reflect the sun

And the stars

And your heart

And your pain

And the bleeding of the world,

It doesn’t count.

But I’m just trying to make it rhyme.



They Told Me To Write (Version 2)

They told me to write

Poetry, so that maybe

The void within me

Would speak in darkness.

So I slash my palm and I

Take my pen and I

Write, because it must

Be done in blood, they say, in

Rhyme and rhythm; when

Words aren’t themselves, it’s

Poetry--nothing is what

It is, but it’s all

Symbols, imagery.

It must come from a dark place

They say, and you race

To write with no stops.

Crystallized, hard, clear, perfect,

Poetry reflects,

Perfectly, the sun

And the stars, your heart, your chains,

The world and its pain,

Or it doesn’t count.

My hand bleeds for a long time,

I must start with rhyme.

Which version did you like better?