My Pen

My pen

The paper mate black one that spills in my book

It’s good to me

Makes me feel open, even when I decide not to be 

It speaks for me 

Delivers the words I can not say 

Succeeds to silence me through word play 

I am passionate about writing 

Something I have always dreamed of doing 

I spill blood, sweat, and tears into my work

For a pat on the back and a snap 

At an open mic act 

But after that, I feel relieved

For I am in love with what I create 

Scrapings of ink in the form of dedication 

Appears on my spiral notebook 

By my prize possession

My obsession

My pen 

The paper mate black one that spills in my book

It inspires me 

To create content that continues to show me a part of myself I have never found before it 

I am in love with writing 

And the pen that allows me to do it .

This poem is about: 
Me

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