Spell It Out, Sugar

I write because 

My lungs are filling up with words 

I can not speak

My love

My hate

My passion

My melancholy

Has created a dangerous

Cocktail

That can only be ingested in

Small observed doses

My disappointment 

Has come to a close

As my essence will accept nothing less

Than everything I have to give

I will continue pollute the sky with 

Hughes of gray as long as as my tongue

Continues to move on its own 

Speaking languages I never knew existed

Call it a fluke, a gift, an annoyance

But if you call it anything

It has succeeded

I don’t write for you

I write for me

But not out of pride

Out of necessity

This is why I write to breathe

Let’s take a walk

And share some thoughts

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