I speak my heart
so beautifully
that
I create a kind of beauty:
poetry
Words are hesitant on papers
deliberate mistakes
are made
Sentences gallop
letters are gathered
I tried
to gauge
how many sentences
to generate

The gloomiest scene
the glare of my pen
I am handicapped
by my thoughts
I happened
to forget
the habit of
limiting my lines
I hoard my dark poems
to my imaginary addressee

Impertinent lines
interfere with my good self
Jabbing
Jamming
Labelling
Judging
Loudly
I dislike going back
to the pieces I produced
for they demolish
the humble expectations of
my reborn self

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