My Job

How I view what I do as a writer.

My Job:

I went from reciting poetry in my bedroom late night,

To reciting it live right

Now.

But let’s step back a second.

Let’s get very real for a second.

I’m sixteen with a head full of fantasies,

Sixteen and searching,

Sixteen and all I want to do is breathe.

Sixteen.

But as a poet I rarely catch my breath,

There’s too many stories clogging my drain pipe brain, too many feelings for me to drown,

The only way for me to gasp once and awhile is to write.

But let’s step back a second.

Let’s get very real for a second.

I’m sixteen. My birthday just past.  

And all I wanted was for my words to mean something.

I will write and write and write and still I will write,

But if my message gets lost in translation from the gibberish in my head to the words on the page,

If I don’t come in louder and clearer than the voices in your head,

Then there’s no point.

I want someone today,

To walk away with a little less pain.

We walk different battles but fight the same war,

We hurt different ways but still love the same.

I want someone today,

To walk away knowing they are powerful,

That the blood pumping through your veins is electric

It could power cities and countries and bodies and brains,

That the words slipping through your lips are like snakes,

Slithering their way to the ears of the unheard,

So listen.

I will write and write and write and still I will write,

But I do it for you.

I don’t do it for me, for the money, for the fame.

I don’t do it for the attention, for the pride, for the pain.

I do it for you.

You--the unspoken one.

You--the labeled one.

You--the heartbroken one.

I do it all for you.

I do this so I can see your smile crack like the break of dawn,

I do this so I can help your heart beat one more cycle

Because sometimes that’s all you need,

I do this so you can breathe easier than me.

I do it for you.

Poetry is medicine,

And I hope it can heal you as it has me,

I hope I can be the antidote.

Poetry is my job.

It is not a hobby, not a recreational sport or a lazy game,

It is my job.

My job is to speak.

Speak for you,

Speak for them,

Speak for us.

So tell me,

Did I do my job right?

Author's Note

My poetry is meant to be heard and not read on the page, but unfortunately I am unable to upload recordings to this site, so enjoy the written version and hit me up with any suggestions. Thanks! --JM