Life · Poetry

Talented Introvert

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The ink has stained my hands
I’ve spilled my truths
Curled my fingers into a permanent position
Fixed my face into a tortured expression
I’ve claimed to be an artist
A skilled poet
I’m married to this talent
That has slowly turned into an obsession
Turned my palm into a personal notepad
Writing down sorrows and expectations
I’m thankful for a pen and paper
They take weights off my shoulders
And boots off my chest