I am no poet, I am no slithering wordsmith sensually scintillating the senses of your mind, my words are shallow, the random conjugation of senselessly sentences making sense of subliminal metaphors and similes savagely scraping shackled ankles of those that are slaves to poetry.
I am no poet, I am no sweet talking honey tongued sentient slowly submerging my thoughts into yours subliminally, slowly giving you parts of me, hoping somebody somewhere coherently combines the components and will be able to tell me who me is. I am no poet, I'm just broken my words are just shards of a me I haven't been able to fix yet, a puzzle I'm not able to solve yet, clues to a me I haven't found yet. I am no poet, I am no sharp minded philosophical phenomenon, I am not to be, I am that tree that falls in the forest with nobody to hear, I speak when there's nobody to listen. I am no poet, I just use bigger words than you, hoping you will snap your fingers in an attempt to break the shell oh humility and crack open my pride, no matter how much you moan and groan I can never satisfy the saudade appetence of you somber soul. I am not poet.