(title at the bottom)

dreams and aspirations are the tip of all this
   the tip of why i write poetry in the first place
  the tip of why i scream and cry onto a page
  the tip of why i claw and bleed unto the pen

each line carries a piece of me forgotten
   each singular letter a testament to wanting to be better
  each fragmented rhythm an echo of who i was
  each section a rallying cry for a better tomorrow

   so dont ask me why i became a beast of words
     dont ask why i stay late at night wanting to be heard
  dont ask why i'm not able to get over someone i last spoke
dont ask why this wont ever be known

because with each poem that is written
   each verse that is forgiven
each melody that is given
each ending that is missin'

-a proper way, because there is no proper way