Ink runs down my chin Once its left my lips It drips and drips To my fingertips So I write on a slab The story of my past Letters in black What I’ve been holding back Once I’m finished And I’ve used up all language I take a step back To see what I did But it's illiterate Blobs of nonsense Is this all that I am Something no one will understand? In anger and frustration I try smearing what makes me a person But the ink is dry I cant hide From who I am All that I can do Is add more and more Till my hands are shaking And there is new ink in the making So that instead of black blobs of nothing I can create colors of wonder and lightning So that on this slab I mirrored myself and my past So that I can come back To the moment I found who I am