Corner Stop

God bless my parents,
because they weren't writers -
aren't writers,
but they made me one
and I don't know what I would do if I wasn't.
And I know it's not always good.
And I know even less often it's great.
But lining up words in a pleasing order always feels right.
And sometimes I read words and cry
and sometimes I write words and cry
and sometimes it's happy
and sometimes it's not.
But on nights I am filled to the brim
I'm so glad there's a way to empty.

And I'm rethinking everything I've ever done
and I think I did it right,
but I also think I should do it differently
to try and do it better.
And I think I should stop expecting perfection
and I don't mean the kind of perfection we should reach,
I mean the outlining of my brain that I've decided is right.
And what I expect from others,
to know how to act.

And I need to stop getting so mad at poetry slams
and maybe use the platform for the emotion it's meant for
instead of checking to see if the poems were edited first.
Because maybe it's a good release to tell a crowd,
mixed of friends and strangers, how I feel.
And maybe someone will agree
and then they'll write poems too.

Because I don't know how else to describe the feeling of pulling my car over on a pleasant spring night and writing as fast as I can because the words have come straight up my spine and I have to get them out and I feel myself crying because my fingers can't keep up with my thoughts and I have so much to say and I'm only 21 and I'm worried that by the time I die I'll have run out of words or run out of time to write the words and if I don't write them I'll lose them and both prospects scare me and sometimes I wish I could take back everything I've ever put on paper so I could spit it out again and feel so proud and fresh of everything I've ever done.

Because sometimes those words get so stale
and I get so bored
and that's not fair.

---

But I guess I got distracted
I don't know what I meant for this to be about
but I think I got what I wanted.

4/4/2016
Riley Welch