What is the line between cheesy and romantic?
What is the nick between bad taste and edgy?
Let me tell you a secret
There’s no line.
I wrote poems and hid them
I created songs and burried them in the dirt
I wrapped my soul in words
so tightly that my heart ached
I was afraid someone would think I was a fake
That all would break under the lightest scrutiny
that the heavy weight of judgement would sorrow me
that it turned out
I didn’t care.
My poems would stay the same
and my words isn’t a shame
You may not like it, but I hope the next person will
I’m here for the thrill of the language
for the twirl of my own voice
It might sound like music, or just a scratching noise
When I find my writing romantic, I wish you won’t find it cheesy
Because the only difference,