My tears fall in the form of words to a sheet
Making me tearless
And my poems the tear streaks
They are the tantrums I throw
The emotion my heart leaks
The sobs in my throat
The words I can't speak
My pen is the duct that produces
Wet visions of my pain
My notebook is the face
That depicts evidence of, obtained
My scribbles are my screams of anguish & frustrations
Lungs still filled with oxygen
My poems are breathless with cries of damnation
They are red hot expressions
Into which, my countenance refuses to contort
They are the shouts and exclamations
Levels to which my tone never wishes to soar
The ink of my utensil
Is the blood pressure rising
The paper keeps notes
On anger that's thriving
My felt tip is moody
In a sudden shift
It chalks giggles & rifts
In sadness & anger
Exposing joyous chortles & chuckles & side splits
It records sheer merriment
Even though I'm not afraid to share it
It jots down poetic pitter pats of love
Scribes the fires of lust
It formulates images of
My verses bare witness
It speaks of chills in the creases and
Communicates shivers along spirals of its bound thesis
Then indites its warmth between pages
Describing what it is to become twitterpated in stages
This poetry composes my delight
My quill is the author
And the papyrus illustrates for sight
My poesies are emotional oddities
Allowing you to read me through artistic expression
Affectively
Making me tearless
And my poems the tear streaks
They are the tantrums I throw
The emotion my heart leaks
The sobs in my throat
The words I can't speak
My pen is the duct that produces
Wet visions of my pain
My notebook is the face
That depicts evidence of, obtained
My scribbles are my screams of anguish & frustrations
Lungs still filled with oxygen
My poems are breathless with cries of damnation
They are red hot expressions
Into which, my countenance refuses to contort
They are the shouts and exclamations
Levels to which my tone never wishes to soar
The ink of my utensil
Is the blood pressure rising
The paper keeps notes
On anger that's thriving
My felt tip is moody
In a sudden shift
It chalks giggles & rifts
In sadness & anger
Exposing joyous chortles & chuckles & side splits
It records sheer merriment
Even though I'm not afraid to share it
It jots down poetic pitter pats of love
Scribes the fires of lust
It formulates images of
My verses bare witness
It speaks of chills in the creases and
Communicates shivers along spirals of its bound thesis
Then indites its warmth between pages
Describing what it is to become twitterpated in stages
This poetry composes my delight
My quill is the author
And the papyrus illustrates for sight
My poesies are emotional oddities
Allowing you to read me through artistic expression
Affectively