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I have been writing poetry for a very long time…

I have spilled my life onto the blank page in fits of sadness and rage…

I have made confessions that stained virgin paper…

I have willed ink to be my blood…

I have heard the thrumming of my heart when it felt pain…

I have longed to write of love…

I have said farewell to dreams…

I have covered my body in ink testaments…

I have cried for loss…

I have bowed down in surrender…

I have wanted to die…

I have risen above all of this…

I have accepted that I now pen my words so I can still my tongue…

What comes forth now has a power that no longer just reaches your auditory perceptions…what comes forth now will reach your being…

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