I Write
I writeAlthough I am as useless as my left hand,
I'm not ambidextrous
But my heart is
Pulled in 27 different directions
Still unafraid of it's breaking point.
And when the pulling stops
It lies stretched out on the ground.
Yet still ready for the next blow.
And speaking like it knows every word
In the dictionary
Most of the things aren't real.
But that's what happens when
I write.
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