Boundaries

I’ve learned that my poetry can have no boundaries,

I used to make it conform, one small space that it would fit in

Now I know that line counts don’t matter
Where you place each letter is a choice
There are no true critics when it comes to art

Art is unable to be judged

And yet I know that someone will be upset at my writing,
How I forget to care

Life has uncrossable lines 
I call these my prison from expressionism

Let me be clear: expressionism isn't an invitation to be coarse

In poetry, these confines are gone 
I think that’s fine

I used to write myself boxes

Now I have been freed from my cage.