Containment

What I write aren’t enough For what my mind holds. It is going to burst out, One day or another. Not out of my mouth, my heart, Or my guts, It will come out as the unspoken words, Written with the ink in blue, On torn pages with trembling hands, Saying everything my voice cannot. It may not be heard or read By those it is meant for, But I’m now free, Free of all the containments. And now, My words will suffice.