Remember when I used a Pen?

My tongue always
Speaks too soon.
My mind finds the words
And my hand immortalizes.
My thoughts and feelings:
They weave in and out and in…
Searching for their resting place.
But they don't rest.
They never rest.
The words don't always say what I mean
My meaning?
This world is still an unknown
My exploration
My adventure
Is just beginning.

And Now....A Haiku.

Means the world to me.
Most important; can't be touched.
Words are like poison.