short but sweet

I don’t improvise, I refine what I’ve written in my mind like a fine-tuned design of a line that’s aligned with the time I’m behind on replies but I’m fine in the climb I don’t shine, I just grind ‘til the rhyme hits a spine I been quiet, but the silence is styled with intent every vowel got a job, every consonant spent I don’t vent, I invent little dents in the tension then extend it and bend it until it gets attention no gimmick in the minute I’m in it, I finish it clean split a sentence in segments, then stitch it to mean what it didn’t at first—now it’s vivid, it works I don’t spit for applause, I just live in the verse