Am I not an artist?
Words wielded like swords.
Rhymes poised on edged tongues.
Synonyms filed away like charms.

Am I not a writer?
But look at me writing.
I can write and type and put it here
My thoughts on digital paper.

Am I not a poet?
Syllables counted and accounted for.
One, two, three. Let’s change the pace.
Pressing “return” as if a new line makes sense.

Am I not a person?
Feelings tangible and tasted like salt tears.
Skin to pinch and hair to braid.
A heart glued, broken, and glued again.
© SKM