I used to write poems about the things I saw,
Finding inspiration in the smallest observances
Like the way my mother said my name
Or the taste of my very first Barbie lip gloss.
I used to write poems with the concreteness of family living,
About the anxiety of their separation or the angst
Of a father’s brothel.
I used to write things other than love poems,
Like a focus on my best friends laugh or the meaning of shock in
The phrase ‘culture shock’.
When I met you, I stopped writing poems,
And I turned them into anger instead.