untitled by a version of me that should very much be sleeping

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I wrote and I wrote and I wrote;
torrential words cascading down a veiled waterfall — a futile attempt of approval,
so I learned how to speak,
and I spoke and I spoke and I spoke;
submerging the rocks and the trees in chatter, drowning out my very own essence — for it was too much;
I am learning to be quiet (strong) again
forgiving myself for abandoned droplets
and wasted floods

MY DIGITAL DIARY : POETRY, THOUGHTS & JOURNAL ENTRIES PART TWOTempat cerita menjadi hidup. Temukan sekarang