This is me not asking for permission
I do not bleed in poem anymore
Instead, I rearrange my feelings so they fit into the crowd
Flow out a little bit neater, cleaner, to the point
I have become a professional at talking for hours without saying anything at all
My heart is a bed and breakfast with a lot of strange and loving rooms
But I put up a sign that reads full
I've been trying so hard to make room for myself
Come to terms with the corners that used to clutter on their own
Re learn the pieces that only hurt when they were given permission
You see, I used to write poems in the middle of the night
My heart pounding so hard in my chest like it needed to see what was on the other side
I only let myself shine once the sun went down
Never wanted to make anyone think I was competing for its shine
Didn't want the sun to feel like it had competition
So I'd glow in the dark
Under my comforter writing the words my fists couldn't pronounce
Don't read that, I'd scream
Too much of my mess is in there
But now, I want them all to see- the midnight girl who lit up
Without asking for permission
This is me not asking for permission anymore.