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Ink
Silence, creates a new kind of peace
The type to overthink
Empty noise
Empty people
They don't see anything but what they want and could’ve.
I would love for everyone to see the real me
but maybe being a mystery benefits from others
stabbing me.
Being able to keep all these words in my head
I don't write stories
about lies
This is all I give
all that my mind rings all day
The pen melts into my hand
Ink streams through my body
Filling my finger tips
And once the ink dies out
my worries sink
dying on the paper
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The peace I get with writing