try poetry

when I think of poems, and truth be told it is not quite often that I spend my alone time otherwise, I see them not as a group of insidious insects invading every corner of the mind, every inch of the private space, forcing me to focus my entire attention span and all the thoughts roaming the mind on how to get rid of them, but more like unrestricted street lamps using letters, instead of light bulbs, to guide from a certain distance the way back home on a moonless night. they are there, they accompany us on the road we have chosen to take, slowly igniting the path our future steps will carefully walk on, but they do not take up undesired room in our existence.
poetry does not steal your eyes like an all-glass skyscraper would when reflecting the summer sun at noon, nor does it melt taste buds when taken in mouthfuls, and it most certainly never leaves dirt marks on the freshly cleaned carpet in the living room.
regardless of all that, though, don’t just go and make that wrong assumption it’d be safe to just pick it up and wear like a white short-sleeved t-shirt on a warm evening in the midst of July. poetry might look harmless, may feel boneless, and could even leave no scent behind when passing you by, but it most certainly puts its illegible signature all over your bare soul when leaned far too long against it.
those indecipherable marks would never fully come off again and you’d find yourself captive to serve a given sentence in a wordless world.

poetry is

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