This very well might be my favourite poem from you during napwrimo. I genuinely want to leave a proper comment but words fail me at the moment, I promise to come back and leave a proper comment for this piece!

Well I promised to write you a proper comment, and it's later; so here I am!

"True, writing poems
doesn't mean I'm a poet."

I already love this opening part, it's intriguing, so rich, it draws you in with the confession that the speaker doesn't feel like a poet, or it might mean the don't subscribe to the stereotypical idea of being a poet. It really is an interesting opening to this piece.

"Nor does dry pigments and colors
that rest forgotten at my desk
say that an artist strives in me."

This follows up from the opening verses, saying that the speaker doesn't feel creative at the core of it, setting up the poem for a powerful revelation to come soon.

"I might be merely a lonely traveler,
befriending bus stations
taking pebbles for memory
as I move from place to place."

I seriously love the imagery in here, on a cute note did you know that penguins collect pebbles and give them to their mates. I don't know if it was intentional or not, but if it is, it makes this poem even more so bittersweet. It also paints the speaker as being a nomad, travelling from one place to another, it made me think of a lack of home.

"My words are a mourning,
a path for relief."

Is the 'a' in front of mourning supposed to be there?

"Scribbles unpack loads off my mind,
while secret misfortunes, strangers
unmade journeys, resentments
even unwritten poetry
always wait under the paintbrush.
But I'm not a poet.
I can never be an artist."

This ties back into the beginning of the poem, about how the speaker writes poems but does not identify with being a poet, and how they are not an artist but reading this stanza alone is indicative of the speaker being a poet, it's beautifully written. You can palpate all the emotions in those words. A side note think there should be a comma after 'resentments'

"I just have a heart to empty
pain to dash off
and faces to mummify
before I backpack again."

I think these verses should also have commas to separate them but then again that could be forgone if it was a stylistic choice since each verse its own. It's a beautiful ending; it goes against the fabric of this poem (the speaker thinking they are not a poet) but still use poetry as a means of coping, which I think is and has always been universally true for all poets since the dawn of time.

oops delete this, meant to comment on another poem, just came back here to track down a verse x