Poetry's Snack

Poetry has completely devoured me.
Poetry is hungry, and I'm just a snack to eat.
It seems like it's the only time I feel alive.
The only time I get to really speak and be me.
Passionately throwing my thoughts at this phone screen.
Not even considering what mess the make.
It's like being a child at play.
It might even actually make me.. happy.
It doesn't feel like just another hobby. It let's me show my true self.
It's like seeing your reflection in the mirror for the first time.

When I have insomnia, and I'm writing every thought I'm reminiscing about.
It makes me forget about the utter sadness it can make me feel.
Poetry has become my happy pill.
It's almost..inspiring?
To forget for a few hours a time that my world is collapsing.
That somedays my mental state is slowly dissolving
Like a piece of chalk left out in the rain.
At least it makes decent poems when I write?
Speaking of writing, I just can't stop!
How do I stop writing when memories are a pen on the endless paper that is my brain?
The only thing that could ever make me stop filling this endless page..
 Is if I burn out and my pen finally runs out of ink.