There were moments when I could not breathewhen every word I have ever wanted to say became trapped inside my throatand suddenly all I could do was choke on my own silenceor risk saying something wrong I was weak and aloneStranded by myself in my own mind Afraid of sinking Every sentence was a nightmareEvery word I said was at war with my mindI could not speak without feeling wrong I did not belong inside this bodyThese hands were not mineThis voice belongs to someone elseI was not real Words crawling out of mouth Leaving nothing but a foul taste and a sick stomach I needed something to hold on toA thread that would keep me from drowning in an ocean of my own creationThe pen was my life raft When ink touched paper I could finally breathe I wrote down every thoughtUnwilling to bottle up my emotions ever againThey were a ship sailing on the seven seas I was able to save myself with nothing more than a pen and a piece of paper But I will never forget the taste of salt And the lack of oxygen underwater Every day I fight to form wordsSome days my lips cannot connect with my brain and the words I sayAre not what I want to hearThey spill out like seawaterI try to choke them back down But my hand never wavers as I writeEach time the ink traces out a new word my shoulders feel lighterI am no longer Atlas carrying the world I am someone else Someone who can breathe without fighting for it