This is my newest tattoo. In all of the tattoos I have put on my body, I had not yet reached a point of committing to putting the word POET on my canvas.
I purchases a typewriter last year that put me in an interesting mindset. I felt a connection with those that came before me with each clacking sound of the keys hitting paper.
I realized that I chose to be a part of something historic and a means of sharing words that flowed through the bodies and minds of men and women that defined poems for thousands of years.
I take great pride in calling myself a poet. It is one of the few things I will say defines me. Many things about me change over time and I have always been steeped in vacillating thoughts. Most that have experienced that part of me to some degree judge me for it. I can hear it in their voices, see it in their eyes, like, “woman, make up your damn mind.”
I smile back and realize it must be difficult to understand a fluid brain that never, ever stops. I am constantly thinking, deciding, managing my wants and needs. It’s actually quite exciting to be so far out of the box that I can touch the sky.
I am a poet in every sense of the word. I love each piece I write, each piece I perform, and each piece waiting to be born from my mind and hands.