No Title

A poem without a title was written, based on an undeniable feeling. In that moment I was simply smitten. This couldn’t have been typewritten the way my mind you kept consuming. A poem without a title was written. Without a box for musings to fit in my unprepared heart was left reeling, in that moment I was simply smitten. Allowing the words to be handwritten an outlet for what I was concealing, a poem without a title was written. Safe to say that I was badly bitten, my skin left broken, raw, and peeling. In that moment I was simply smitten. To let all of this out I’ve been sittin’ pining over all you’ve been stealing. A poem without a title was written, in that moment I was simply smitten.