Expel of Waste 

I’m trying to become more of a writer? 

My emotions, thoughts could fill this red journal; pages scribbled and dog eared. spine broke from folding it back cover to cover. stains of coffee from early mornings or late nights.

My journalism professor would always tell us to vomit our words on pages, get everything out. 

These are my emotions 

These are my thoughts 

Take this expel of waste I call my soul.

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