I want to spend all my nights
at the Chelsea hotel
in New York City.
Alone with just my pen and paper
and my impassioned thoughts.
I want the poets of the past
to enter those thoughts
like screams in dead silence.
I want those screams
to go through me
like a knife
that pierces a wound
that's beyond all cure.
I want to write their words
as my own and not to know that.
I want to feel them
as they have felt them.
I want to be forgotten
and I want to be remembered.
I want to live
with every word
that is read.
I want to be taken
into your heart
like a lovers embrace
and given life to
with your voice.
And I want to be
the tears you cry.
I want to be the thing
you need most
but you don't know
what that thing is.
I want to be your veins
that burst with a sickly thirst
and I want my poetry to be
what quenches your thirst.
I want to be like rain
in the desert.
I don't want
to be a dying song
that's never sung.
By Samantha Campbell
VirginPoet