The Inkvisible Friend

It engraved me like a second skin and welcomed me like an invisible friend, which let my thoughts and creativity run wild. No chains to conform me no voices to limit my words, just unchained thoughts running free. I was consoled by the ink and letters arranged for me and only me, as if assuring me of what's in my own DNA. There may be chains on this world to limit those who conform to society's voices, but there are no chains on my mind. In the ink I refuse to suffocate just to let them deprive me of my oxygen, the unspoken rhythm continuously reviving me. It is the unwritten words to my unspoken heart, the art of my creatively vital soul. The beautiful terror in my heart with the thought of conformity, it pushes beyond barriers for me. I breathe through blank pages and see through solid black ink, just to speak unspoken words upon those blank white sheets. My voice is loud within ink and on blank sheets, but in reality I'm barely heard, not even above a mouse's squeak. Just a shy girl with no vocal cords to even say hello, but give her a pen and she'll never remain silent.