locksmith

January 6, 2012

i wish
i wasn’t born
a poet.

instead,
i would’ve
liked to have been
a locksmith.

my entire existence
would be dedicated to
the art of making
and defeating locks.

i’d lock up my sentiments.
secure them in a place
where they’d never be hurt.
no key. just a combination
of infinite numbers written
in braille ’cause Love is blind
and only it would know
how to unlock me.

i’d work on deciphering
combinations.
i’d learn to unlock
fears and insecurities.
i’d work on bringing light
to the darkness of a vaulted
soul and free it from itself.

but i am just a poet
whose safe
is a pen and paper
that unlocks at the simple
turn of a connection.