Bad Habits.

Writing my deepest thoughts
Throwing out a page
I’ve come to realize
That what I write
May not make sense
Or am I ashamed ?

I look into my garbage bin
And I see a world of pain and happiness
I pour it back onto the floor
And I piece every word back together

It must be a gift
Because when I’m not numb
The words make me feel every emotion
The lines may not rhyme but
Every word speaks for it self
It rhymes with ones heart
And brings clarity to my eyes

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