What my poetry is

There is this one thing about poetry that it can express the greatest gratitude but can also dig into people. The hardest part is that when I am writing whether I am directing it at any one person or a generalization.

Sadly most times it is a generalization towards people or a group of people in a single tone. So in cases where I say "him"  it is reference to all the men, not just one, in my past. Frankly  I like the generalization because I don't need to separate how I feel from one incident to the next.

I roll one into the other because in most cases I felt similarities of life. And as foe friendships it's a theory. The realization is there is no friendship going back. We are all strangers mingling in this world.

Yet some people really take it to heart that I was speaking of them. And some times I am but no one will know unless I say their name. So that is the greatness in poetry.

I am not in a remorseful stage. And yes I said in a previous poem my shine was too bright for him. Yet does anyone know what that means? It's not egotistical. It is that of who I am now. I know I wasn't good enough to be the one they chose.

But what is that shine?

It is my spitfire, my anger, my laughter and my mystery that was too much. I understand that when I write, I never know which way my poetry will go and with my questions that tumble in my head,  who knows the outcome altogether.

All I know is that I am quite comfortable being where I am. Not involved in any one person's life.

I am content with that. As much as I spout love things it's just a part of me as the red hair I have. I am a romantic and a dreamer. So yeah it will find ways into my poetry. And yes at times that will affect others around me.

Yet my questions about those of yesterdays I know I won't really get answers and that is okay. I can live my life without knowing, for a reason.

So for someone to remove things that connect, I understand. I still have things that connect me but just through memories. No need to exchange words or even be passing.

Yet I see how my poetry scares people. Twists and turns of me. I did not call out your name then you need not to think that anything is about you. And if my memory or my words sting or inspire you to recall something then that is the best gift I can give. To help someone improve or recall something wonderful.

And if things get tossed when cleaning out parts of your life then so be it. As I have done. Most parts of me have been divided and sliced out. I understand you have to let go of people and things that remind you of others. That is the trait of moving on.

And with that this point in my life I understand parts of my improvements will help me see that past is gone.

But the best thing about thousands and thousands of poems is that you can see progress, downfalls, getting back up and moving right along.

And for those who I may have offended from my words, they are words. Not anger. No. I could not be angry. Sad yes. But not angry anymore over things I don't control. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't control anyone.

So clean up. Toss away. Look beyond and find where you need to be. So what if my words dig into you, then rekindle your mind with laughter and carry forward.

I can only say poetry is a million thoughts placed into one poem. Can't you shove that much into one sentence?

Yes? I am fine. You are fine. Love. Be happy.