The relationship between poetry and fiction

Poetry,
the language of love. An ode,
feelings magnified into paper. Neatly tied
with a velvet bow, a love letter to one's
intended or beloved. 

Poetry, the easy stream of words that pull, hearts
open. I loved. I felt. So, I wrote.

Love, the antithesis of prose, 
fiction. The feelings hinder and throw
you into a mass of cliches. I understand cliches 
now or why anyone would use them. I am full,
a walking cliche. 

Love, the reason for pools of crumbled papers which missed 
the waste basket, polling around. Assaulting my eyes. I loved. I felt. So, I couldn't write.

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