Alone in my thoughts, I

Alone in my thoughts, I dream grandiose dreams,

Stories with heartbreak, heroes and screams.

But my mind is just rope, it gets so very tangled,

And it is far too easy for my thought to get mangled.

My hands clear my mind and detangle my head,

And turn the coarse rope in to soft, silky thread.

I long for my thoughts to be so polished and neat,

But I’m stuck at a loss, too close to defeat.

Day in and day out for 18 years,

I’ve had the same friends, same sorrows, same fears.

It is in my writing where I uncover my thoughts,

Pensive words flow from hands as they untie knots.

Once I’m released like a bird from its cage,

I’ll hunt for inspiration, and write page after page.

The wind, my freedom, will liberate my soul,

Gentle flowing gusts that make words that make me whole.

When I am unrestricted, ill write down my every dream

All stories have substance, despite how foolish they seem.

I want substance to quell the boiling mess in my brain,

Because the only other option is going insane.

And maybe by sorting through all my wiry rope,

I can finally find peace, more importantly, hope.

And maybe I can help others discover themselves,

Remove their personalities from dusty old shelves.

Ill liberate the souls of those trapped negativity

By showing them the freedom inside creativity

Through epic fantasies, nail biting mysteries

The perfect escape for internal discoveries.

My writing contains my fundamental heart,

So my essence can forever live through art.

I am fueled by those who are lost in life,

Constantly barraged with turmoil and strife.

I know their pain, I feel it as well,

To look at yourself and see a hollow shell.

I’ve decided to change the warped image I see

Because, now, I realize that image isn’t me.

So I must leave behind the life I made

To discover the me I’ve repressed and betrayed.

A molten red fire burns my insides

It laces my fingertips and fuels what I write.

I have no hesitation that this is my duty

And I hope I can make the next American Beauty

I want to write words people wish to keep,

or tattoo on themselves or hum before sleep.

I’ll pursue every dream, every thought, every question

And never again will I allow creative repression

I will write my mind and body dry

I will pour out my heart, though its blue as the sky

My writing keeps me human, keeps me sane

It fills my emptiness, makes me feel pain.

There is joy when I write, so much I could dance.

I need my writing like I need this chance.