The Fear of Truth

Paper and pen, why do you stare? My heart gripping like a snare. I spill like a punctured balloon writing all of my cares. Who's to judge my heart? Who knew from the start I would overflow with such emotion with words, the red sea I part. I find freedom, liberation through my struggle and contemplation word after word I am free, a sweet relieving sensation. The pen across the delicate page calming me through fits of rage, as if someone is listening to the deeper things I say. The truth of my heart cannot be hid. When I held that pen it simply slid left to right, piece by piece the smiles that plague a happy kid.