The shades of black and white appealed to me

Like a thief finding comfort in the shadows

The feeling of ink in my hands felt like home

Like the familiar arms of a lover

There was no better way to express the love I felt for her

Than through the marks on the lined paper

No better way to distract myself from an unrequited love

Than to express that I’ll never have her

I soon embraced myself as a writer

Hugging the words to my chest as if it was her

And the pain eventually went away

Almost as if the pen replaced her

Poetry soon became the color of my life

Ironic, because of the black and white

An escape to a story filled with the light I’ve never known

A story without heartbreaking girls and temporary homes