The Poet X

by Elizabeth Acevedo

Jesus feels like a friend I’ve had my whole childhood who has suddenly become brand-new; who invites himself over too often, who texts me too much.

Maybe, the only thing that has to make sense about being somebody’s friend is that you help them be their best self on any given day. That you give them a home when they don’t want to be in their own.

Stop why did this make me cry

The whole house witnesses as I pray this steep, steep price.

I only know that learning to believe in the power of my own words has been the most freeing experience of my life. It has brought me the most light. And isn’t that what a poem is? A lantern glowing in the dark.