I was never good at

I was never good at speaking my feelings into the air for others to hear 

but I could write it.

if you gave me a pen and paper I could make sense 

of the hurricane in my head

as I bleed onto the paper 

the storm inside begins to break

I can breath again

That is why I write

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741