It's when someone brings it up in conversation.
A smile creeps onto my face
And I think to myself,
And I proceed to ramble on,
Spewing every little detail.
It's when I talk about it,
Others can see the passion
Glistening in my eyes
And I can feel a fire
Ignite inside my soul.
It's pouring out my thoughts and emotions
In black ink
Onto a piece of paper
Inside of a half-used journal.
It's making my voice be heard
By the eyes that read my words.
But it's also what I don't want anyone to know.
It's the rage, confusion, pain, depression,
That I have kept hidden all these years.
It's the blood-curdling shrieks in my mind,
The shattered heart that cuts me,
The pain that reverberates off the walls of my skull.
It's the stillness of my tongue,
Uttering only the sweet silence of surrender.
Until finally it's a moment of bliss.
It's when Holiness seeps into my skin,
Birthing peace and righteousness.
It's when fear and despair is destroyed,
Leaving behind only the remnants
Of complete salvation.