Lent — 15 min Poem — Day Eighteen

To know when and how to speak

Is the single most difficult thing

I can think of

How to shape a multi-layered

Process of realisation into

Distinct and succinct words and

Then let them leave my mouth

Without collapsing

I wish I had a formula

I wish I knew how to stop my voice

From shaking, and my eyes from

Flaking into tears

I wish my understanding were

Enough.

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