I am troubled,
despite the fact
I feel as though I am
perched on a cloud.

Does a flower
announce its blooming?
Likewise should I announce
each happiness
and sorrow?
I am in such conflict about this.

Part of poetry is to
exaggerate through
omission.
Here, I can only
show what I had felt,
never tell.

I wonder if I have adequately expressed,
with the few words I have wrote,
that all my poems are about
the things I have purposefully omitted?

Tonight, my heart is a torrent.
I wish to use names,
but I cannot.
I wish to state my emotions,
but I must not.
Perhaps it is because I am
not truly a poet,
but all I can do is
emphasize absence.