The Past Anxieties Cease

Quiet girl, quiet girl

Speak up? She’d rather die

Tenses up in conversation

No one wonders why

 

Never talks to anybody

Isolation is her self-defense

Hides behind bangs too long

Paranoia is the expense

 

Inside her mind is racing

Ideas constantly sprout

Diligently trying as she might

Words fail to pour out

 

But when her pen touches the paper

And when her ink bleeds onto the pages

A weight is lifted off her shoulders

Her shield disengages

 

When she writes, she can be free

Bottled-up emotions release

She is finally able to express herself

And the past anxieties cease

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