Competition

You look for poetry pretty in clever rhyme patterns to describe something aforementioned by hearts beating to your expectations
You look for "he was as beautiful as the ocean" and "she built roses in gardens once graveyards"
You don't notice that the ocean has whales in the shape of his problems and shark teeth like the claws he'll one day use to cut me open like the way I cut my roses.
My words bleeding blind like schools of fish chasing tails in the presence of sharks
My fingers dancing like the floating petals of red trauma falling and clinging to the ground as it does pen to paper.
You don't look for poetry
You look for basic in complexities and gardens in graveyards of thorn stems
You look for the blue of the ocean and ignore the way it creates chaos amidst your rhymes.