There is a saying
“When you tell someone something about yourself
You give away a piece of your soul”
The poet is writing
Tearing off strips
Bloodied inkpot swirls
Type neatly across the page
Here have a piece of Kate
And I’m happy to share
But after a time all I’m left with
In here
Is a hollow divot
A little stone
Kicked out of place
Staring back in
The weight
That held my feet to the ground
Lifted
Leaving
Disconcerted feelings
