If you were a poet how would you write about me? Would you flaunt my insecurities or bury them deep? Would you showcase my demons or smother them in a blanket of equivocation? If you were a poet How would you convey my sorrow? Would you weave an image of a wave? Overwhelming. Engulfing. Suffocating. Or would you imagine it like static? Static which clouds the mind, stifling any glimmer of happiness If you were a poet Would you change me in any way? Creating a romanticised version of you lover or a more truthful, downcast depiction of you sweetheart If you were a poet and i was your poem Would you treasure me? Would you hang me with pride? Subjected to the worlds judgemental gaze Or stash me away? till all memory of me is buried and neglected