Why I write

Boundless thoughts silently screaming.

Voiceless emotion streams forth from my eyes.

My shredded heart lying in the cold, left for dead.

The pen rolls over into the grasping clutch of her fearful mind.

She writes through the terror and the tears.

She scribbles past the heckling and her anger.

The pages fill quickly taking her pain and unknowns,

giving her the silent ear to speak to.

The strongest shoulder to cry on for never a judgement would it pass.

Slowly the emotion flows only through her pen.

The silent screams become soft whispers urging her on.

Her heart, oh her heart, slowly gets up and starts stitching itself back together.

The pen, my srongest ally.

My paper, my dearest friend,

came as always to help me save myself again.