I put pen to paper
not knowing
what to expect
if I will be satisfied
with what I write
or if anyone
will like
what I
write

I don't see myself
as a gifted soul
all my words
were dug up
from the dark
and beautiful
parts of me
that were
buried
in soil

my heart speaks
so loudly
even my mind
can hear
the echoing
of my thoughts
as I think of the
memories
which made me
and created
the identity
of the poet
that I became
to be