When everything gets messed up inside

It’s like your insides are scribbles

And then your lips stop working

Because how could you explain

All of the different things inside of you

When you have a hard time telling them apart?


It’s okay that things can’t exit my broken lips

And it’s okay that I’m all in scribbles inside

I’m untangling everything piece by piece

And rearranging them as I know them

It’s okay that the pretty shows in the pretty words

And it’s okay that there’s dark underneath them


Even know there are complicated thoughts mixing

And the feelings in my chest seem to coil around themselves,

While there is misunderstanding in most of the faces I see,

I accept it and bear on, trudging through

It seems almost pointless at times and worthless

But then it’s worth it and maybe even beautiful


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