Hidden pools

My spirit falters at my lips,
for my voice is weakened by hesitance.
Yet I thrive in fountains of ink,
painting the abstract behind my teeth,
clenched to suppress,
to hide the shame of the quiver,
the stutter, the swallow, the break,
that might muddy intention and conviction.

Hidden pools lay dormant
within sinister thickets of reeds and thorns,
awaiting a plume of discovery
to flume them of their rich resources,
as fluid, formless ideas dream of legs,
aching to run and dance with abandon
upon a limitless canvas,
to at last be understood.

- MgAl
Written by MgAl
Author's Note
I've always found I express myself better through writing (be it through poetry, essay writing, stories, even texting or emails) than I do speaking in person. I've always faltered with the way I speak, due to carrying with me insecurities from my childhood about learning and speaking broken English, as well as being embarrassed about the sound and inflections of my own voice. Ironic that I am now a classically trained singer. But even now, I feel the most free through writing, as most of the time, it's the only way I feel I am ever truly heard.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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