My pen aligns with my insecurities,
faltering,
when all I want to do is kiss you,
to understand the mysteries of the soil.
However, I cannot write.
My heartbeat is in my fingertips,
the words are buried
and the page, for now, lies blank.
Dec 4, 2020
Dec 4, 2020 at 7:28 PM UTC
My pen aligns with my insecurities,
faltering,
when all I want to do is kiss you,
to understand the mysteries of the soil.
However, I cannot write.
My heartbeat is in my fingertips,
the words are buried
and the page, for now, lies blank.
Struggling with new experiences, insecurities, and not being able to to express, which, for me, is the creation of a bedrock truth. A poet full of holes and hope..