my tears gently paint the page
words of
sadness
joy
rage
conflict
regret
embedded in the paper with such grace
such ease and cohesiveness as if those specific words were meant for this page
as the ink begins to spread under the protective bubble of every tear drop
so does the fog that inhabited my mind
my hands are tangoing to the rhythmic beating of my heart
yet my soul swaying to the ballad of the breeze
at rediscovering things that were being repressed from within
words and tears enter into this entanglement and spill out into chaos
an original art piece that projected everything my mind needed to say
_but couldn’t voice
As I write the last word
The last punctuation point
And wipe the last lone tear from my eyes
I close my journal with a feeling of happiness at this shedding of old skin
Knowing I wasn’t the same person 30 minutes ago before I picked up my pen
Anique is a 19-year-old poet from Wisconsin who writes as a hobby but wants to make a career of it.
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