The Silent Therapist

My pen is my medium

To my most inner feeling.

It censors me from the embarrassment

Of my heart kneeling.

I realized I had found an outlet.

It was a sensation impossible of counterfeit,

And it compelled me to continuously share,

My honesty that I could no longer verbally forfeit.

I thought I was emotionally empty.

Internally completely numb.

Then one day, I wrote down my inner truth,

And no judgement did come.

Converting the pain gave me strength

To never again hide.

I watched my pain become beauty

Out of a past I entirely lied.

Writing and reading my reading

Brought about my inspirations

Which in time escalated

Into my literary creations.

It became an addictive cycle,

And I could not quit to write,

It stifled me when I was angry

To not start a fight.

It relieved my sadness

At times when I could not

By letting me expose such

Through my written thought.
Before I found my ability to write

I could never fully love,

But I didn’t realize that

Until I got a literary shove.

Thanks to my discovery of poetry

I maintain my mental health.

With no further derailment

I can enjoy my emotional wealth.