Sacrificing sleep to fill my brain

Can’t find shelter in my head

I feel my intelligence is questioned when multiple choice is involved

The only solace lies in the tip of my gold pen and the ink spilling a jumbled

mess of English and French

After too many words on too many pages,

There’s not enough energy left for reading books and writing poems

Losing focus fast but sometimes I forget

I can paint

Painting is therapy

The brush will do the work while I let my mind rest.


à bientôt




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