I've spent so much time writing and bleeding poetry.
Every last breath of me was written on hundreds of sheets of paper.

My heart was naked and seen.

I was no longer hiding anything.
Yes I spilled out my secrets to all who could read.

Some nights I even talked to the walls, does that seem crazy?
Maybe.

But at least I wasn't lonely,
because my imagination was open.
I was dreaming when I was wide awake and traveling to many places without stepping my feet out into the sand.

Creativity he was my best friend and sometimes my best pen.

Poetry wasn't something learned,
but something you felt,
every emotion,
from life to death,
to A to Z,
yes,
every little and big thing.

Yes,
this is my Poetry From The Mind.
Sheets covered in ink.
Poetry within me.

The title reference finally ;)
Thanks for reading 💕😘