My mind is spontaneous; at times I want to scream.
But that is too extreme.
Sometimes, I can't say what I mean to say.
Oral words are sculpted for the outside's way.
Though my philosophy, thoughts, and feelings could never be distorted despite what society says.
Words are my creative force which must be leaked.
My expression is not feasible through paints, pottery, or other tangible art.
My expression is the nuanced art of communication through words.
It bear the vulnerable piece of my heart.