here I am,
my eyelids weigh,
drag me down. . .
the hours
the hours
the hours I have slept
escape me. . .
though my soul is voiceless
it is restless
from all the steps
the sole of my feet take
to nowhere, over and over.
save me
from forgetting how to be
what I claim to be
I am, I am poet
turns to I was, I was poet.
I am, I am alive
turns to I was, I was alive.
pull out the matches
and turn ablaze my inspiration
a stroke of illusion
that someone hears
my heart’s beat,
through these words
I matter.
I am matter.
I am here.
Claudia Rojas 
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