Hastily I Scribbled. Poem by Zeh SheZ

Each time you call me 'poet', my mind goes to a poem I wrote long ago.

HASTILY I SCRIBBLED.
You called me a poetess,
when like vapour rising
in the air I spewed my ink.
My words I splashed in a spill,
messed up like me, in all senses.

I was clumsy, in a hurry,
while emotions that churned
drummed a thud incessant
on the walls of my soul.

I freed them, gave them wings
to take off to the sky,
much from my frustrations,
not with much inspiration.

My mind needed an outlet,
for many thoughts swelled.
A throbbing bobbing mass
inside my head congested.

Words I threw mindlessly,
so they'd land anywhere,
to be found by whoever
to get relief, a bit of calm
for a soul that was het up.

I wrote for tears to stall,
then because the tears did fall.

But today I write as I fly
from where I might have sunk,
to where I've learnt to soar.