Metamorphosis

When I write, I am basically talking to myself,

Out aloud for all to see.

I talk with an authority,

But in fact, I am telling myself mostly.

Its a schizophrenic dialogue,

A Self conversing with a Self.

A lyrical concoction,

An inferno of alchemy.

Words can be dynamo,

The metamorphosis of the metastasis.

The written aphrodisiac,

A poetic rap.

Contradictions layered upon contradictions,

Non-sensical but seductive nonetheless.

Fruitful, but risky,

Experimental with no guarantee.

Find the limits of the tongue,

Wrap it around, play with the end.

Make a new shape,

Spit and churn.

Until it turns,

Do a 360.

Now your spinning,

The fun begins.

Upside down,

And then, all around.

I did not come here to play it safe,

I came here to find my rightful place.

I am not a caterpillar on the ground,

I’m a ballistic butterfly that cannot be held down.