Challenging Poetry

my defense

the hardest part is
knowing there’s nothing left
to give. no rewrites. no do
overs. no extra day to polish
the words until they shine
diamond bright. that is over.
the classes and essays
are over. the writing and rewriting
and editing and polishing
and writing again are over.
all that’s left are one hundred sixty
pages and three professors
sitting opposite me with
my writing in their hands and under
their pens and questions—
an hour’s worth of questions to
justify my choices. and then
the hallway while they discuss me—
I am my writing—
and staring at paint cracks
in the wall and memorizing
the stains of the ceiling while
they decide if what I gave
is enough.