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Short poem about what happens when I write a poem. |
| When I write a poem, the words bounce around my brain. My skull gets tiny bruises and it hemorrhages refrain. I want to yell the words out loud because they're liquid and I'll drown. But for my ears sake and for others, I have to write them down. The bloody words rinsed from my brain are often hard to gauge. They flow like water out of my pen and seep onto the page. When I am done it is not perfect on close examination. But if anything's perfect in this world it's not human creation. |