I write to fill

the unspoken silence,

the unencumbered void

in which I live.

Books scream to be heard,

neglected by most.

I listened to their cries

and divulged in their secrets.

The cycle goes on neverending

I refuse to go unheard

like the books that I confide in.

I write to fill

the unspoken silence

the unencumbered void

in which I live.