Ask Me Why Poem by Samantha Campbell

Poetry suffers tragic language
A sickness thick with words
We poets are proud proclaimers
of liberating grace

So ask me to write a poem
about the bump on my middle finger
from forcing pen to paper

Ask me about the nights
of nocturnal desires
spent alone inking
soul on page

Ask me why my heart
belongs to poetry
for eternity
times two

Ask me how
soft nouns
hard verbs
bent stanzas
crease sheets
as we change
compositions

Ask me how
My lips are
ink stained
because I'd rather
speak my mind

Ask me how
I made music
with my motions
how I drummed out
solo's on your chest

Ask me why
I would die
for just one kiss

Ask me why I say
I'm masochistic
that I crave the
ache and burn
of the pen

Ask me why I choke
on the verses lodged
in the back of my throat

Ask me why I'm a prisoner
of poetic imagery

Ask me why the vein of my love
is deeper than most human brains
can fathom unlocking mysterious hidden
windows deep in my subconscious

Ask me why...

... and I will tell you

Cause

We poets are proud proclaimers
of liberating grace

By Samantha Campbell