Today’s poem

is a blur



I wrote something

maybe too honest and raw.

I’m not ready to show it to anyone.

I’m still dealing with the emotions.

I’m a little exhausted from writing it.


I still want to explore the subject further,

make peace with the memory,

take a wet cloth to it

and try to gently

wash away the shame

from the edges.


I want to revise the poem.

It’s more delicate than my others.

I want it to be just right

before the world sees it.


But like my heart,

I can’t make it shatter-proof.


Today’s poem has been interrupted

by hesitation

and self-censorship.

So you get a blur


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