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Quiet. Silent. Why should I be? I was born demanding attention. I came into this life screaming. I write because eloquence just passed me by. Out of my mouth spews forth aberrations.
When I write, I don't need to be heard I write for me, not for you or him or her, When I write, It's for creative expression not for people to judge, harm or hurt when I write, i feel better
The world spins, my pen twirls. The curved hill becomes a rugged mountain, and my fingers arch over keys. I get slammed, I get broken, I'm stretched out and hung to dry.
My heart is beside me, I am dying. This room has turned black and stillness grows on. My chassis slows and I die while flying. These last thoughts go to paper as they dawn,
Time appears to be infinitewhen my pencil scratches across the paperline after lineI erase the mistakesI keep goingI cannot give up, not thisMy heart and my emotion are here,