I don't know how to talk
My thoughts might be arranged
But words roll of my tongue messily
I always regret what I say
Later realize staying quiet could be the right way
I come off mostly weird
I will brush it off saying am tired
Maybe my thoughts aren't meant to be ever spoken
They are meant to be gathered on paper
YOU ARE READING
MIDNIGHT MIND
Poesiewriting words that the heart utters The thoughts the minds ponders The verses the mouth is too ashamed to mutter
