urgent

 
artful expression it's all subjective
what is lovely to me
isn't beautiful to someone else

a song of suffering is just a feeling
something I can't hide
anxiety builds and I must write

sending the pain away from my soul
so not to poison my internal well
chains that drag me down
deeper into my sorrow

it is a relief to let it go in my diary
sometimes just empty thoughts
dreams that covet my attention

I am quick to dismiss them
but when they keep resurfacing
I know I have to address them

they might not be pretty but they are mine
powerful in their presentation
some of the dark persuasion

I let them linger but they disturb me
they bite if I don't free them
in the extreme content

I am aware of my strangeness
a misfit or oddling
mistaken for someone
who needs approval for my writing
to be worthwhile

I write what I feel that's all
anyone needs to know about me
just ask and I'll tell you