I'm a poetess

Cursing the Auto driver whose jerky bumpy morning ride, lost me the 2 verses that were key to this poem. But here's the best I could do from memory.
It never comes the same way twice.
(If a poetess may pout, now would be a good time.)

I'm not a pretty face
But I am your poetess
Unutterable your hurt
I heal with words
Your truth within my blood
Makes inroads.

The pain you feel
I must reveal
My antennae
Shudders and
Against all demons
Words stand guard.

I write the way
You make me feel
I compose you,
To feel
You're real.

Against all odds
And the apparent front
You put up
To make a spirited show,

But I see only shredded
spots of light
Shining through chinks
In the armour
Of your affectation.

Don't try to fool
A poet
Don't try to earn her
Trust.
Don't try at all
For she's all pen and ink
Ready to spear your sorrows
And speak your sword.

And her blood so muddied
All blue and black
Her mind travels
Through hell to
Watch your back.

And she's there
Ever there for you
Not in flesh
But her words
Will always do.

For she's not real
She's not her own
She is only
there to feel
The ache and sorrow
Burning in
Your bones.

Gnarled ashes
Of your pain
Her poetry is
Your remains.

Her blood pounds
Under the pressure of
Your bones crushing weight
She is the speaking picture
Of your fate.

She's in your head
A scheming witch
She's the blessing
That you'll seek.

I'm a poetess
An auror
A conjuror
A mirror.

To my subject
I become
A siamese twin
A chimera
That lives within

Till the end.
I will not deserve
Your love
Nor shall I
Desert you,

The one
I befriend.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017