Pulsing Poem

There is a poem in my veins
knocking on the walls and trying to get out,
my heavy heart is filled with doubt,
that muscle will always remember the pain.
‘If there is no reason to write, then why even bother?’,
but there is a reason so loud, I can’t smother
the sound of the pulsing poem running through my body.

This time I won’t hold my breath,
this time I will make sure I won’t forget,
that there are poems in my veins
that there is a cure for all this pain
and that I won’t hide anymore,
even if fear will knock on my door,
again, I won’t hide anymore,
I won’t hide anymore.

– A.A.
August Poetry