Some poems want to be free, others want to be heard. Some poems are brat, others are Barbie. A poem can be two (or many) things at once—but it can be just one thing and that's enough. A poem can look like one thing but really be another. A poem doesn't have to explain itself to you. A poem can't always explain itself. A poem can be a mystery. A poem is many things but it is not a test. A poem sometimes knows exactly what it is, and sometimes it’s still figuring it out. A poem can change its mind about what it wants to be. You don’t tell the poem what it is. The poem tells you—or doesn’t. A poem doesn’t owe you anything. A poem never starts wars, but it can end them—and never lets you forget. A poem is a love letter and a therapy session and a call to action and a meditation. A poem is everything and barely anything. A poem can suck you in like a black hole, it can spit you out like stars. A poem is a blip like everything else made of wonder and terror and sugar and spice. They keep saying poetry is dead, declare it like truth. A poem is as real and alive as you.