i write a million words, erase thousands more

i write a million words, erase thousands more,

trying to express what I feel,

yet I have never penned a single poem,

that I could ever call ideal.

I have ten unfinished poetry,

twenty unsent letters I hold,

thirty topics I couldn't bring myself to write,

and a fifty stories that remain untold.

"no one stays", i shout aloud

and so he left too in devastation,

and I am here left with poems

i once wrote in his admiration.

A hundred poems sit waiting to be posted

many wounds yearning to be revealed,

but none of them have ever explained

the pain i have always concealed.

now, I am a graveyard of unspoken words,

a museum of poems that no one reads,

words fails to heal my wounds

so on paper, I quietly bleed.