The paper is where I articulate my inner most thoughts and feelings.
My mind can jumble itself to form another language that is hard to comprehend.
The pen is my translator.
The desire to be understood as I ferociously write what needs to be expressed.
My expression is my art.
I don’t talk to be heard, I talk to let out.
I don’t walk to be seen, I walk to progress.
And I don’t think to be thought of, I think to be clear of troubling thoughts.
I never want to be an actress, a singer, a writer.
I want to be an artist.
Because my expression is my art.