I don’t study literature,
and I am not a poet.
But I can’t hold the urge to write what I feel and observe,
and shamelessly call them poems.
I don’t even speak English,
yet I dare to scribble
in this language that’s not my mother’s tongue.
I apologize for disgracing the canon
of how words should be structured.
But I am not sorry for feeling what I feel,
and expressing it in the way that I do.
If you are unhappy,
you can come at me.
I will gladly accept more things
to overthink and write,
to abhor and adore.