I write about what disturbs me, what I love and fear
I put it all on paper
Words others, will never hear.
The pen held in my fist
Does not turn away
It waits so patiently
For what I need to say.
And though the paper may be damp,
From tears not brushed aside,
It still offers me solace, saying
Here…you must not hide.
So I pour forth the emotions
The anger and the pain
Now the paper is slightly crumbled
Yet chooses to remain.
Silently begging,
taunting too
As 3 am shouts
There’s more inside of you.
The pages are filled
Dry, now is my pen
I split myself open
Through the words within.
Another book now
Placed on the shelf
I don’t need a mirror
To look at myself.
If you look for me
I can only be found
On the coffee table
I’m leather bound.
The inscription inside
Will read like this
It was here
That I loved…
Here That I lived!
RaenellDawn

02/08/2017 & 8:58 pm