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My #2 savior


 

 
There's been a lot of anger 
from the days when my father beat me,
almost sold me
in the name of a higher purpose
and let me down more times
than an average childhood can handle. 
So I scribbled all my frustrations
out onto my paper
through my #2 savior. 
 
At first, I wrote a question to the sun, 
and asked why it hid behind the clouds
when all I wished was for it to join me
in the few hours my father wasn't home. 
then I wrote to the sons of far away lands
princes, and knights to find me and save me
But none ever came
because no letters were ever posted
because I had no hope
that they wouldn't be my father. 
 
So I sharpened my own sword
and I scribbled all of my frustrations
and anger and hurt
out onto paper
through my #2 savior. 
I feasted on the happiness my victories brought me
and positive emotions in moments of repose.
But still I fought monsters 
and defeated my own personal demons
with my #2 savior in hand. 
until all the major battles were fought
and that was left to survive
was life. 
 
The days kept on rolling by
as did the endless pages
of endless composition books. 
There were days, after he left
that I smiled and wrote about the 
curious feeling called happiness. 
There were days, after he left 
with emotions, I could not fathom
so I scribbled away trying to figure them out. 
Every once in a while I would catch a demon lurking
and I'm prepared to fight, but don't engage in combat
unless attacked, 
because I already have had my victories
and I already have my scars
and there's so much more in life
worth scribbling furiously about
and so many more reasons in life
to write. 
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