Becoming a Poet
Free verse
I never told anyone I was a poet,
they knew me as the faithful, stylish friend
the meticulous neighbor who hired leaf blowers
to manicure the lawn and pollute the air
and who took ubers to the masseuse and the dentist.
I was the cool blue eyes in the rear-view mirror
on the way to workshop.
I never told my stylish friends I was living
the lie after lie we tell ourselves because the truth
is never good enough for us —
to have a place in their perfect world.
I knew the lie was good enough for me,
but it grew bigger and bigger
until it all unraveled.
I was the stutter
the silence
the tangled zipper
the wrinkled linen
the broken glass
in yesterday’s trash.
And perhaps that’s the reason
I see myself
in the rearview mirror
and became brave enough to become a poet.
© Connie Song 2024. All Rights Reserved.
