INK.

Quiet and unsure,

Shaking and scared

 

With a stutter so obscure

The words wouldn't come out

 

They asked again,

“How do you feel ?”

“Do you remember at all?”

 

Round and shiney

Sliding slowly down my cheek

The tears fell

Causing ripples in my life

 

Ripples that prolonged the pain

That aggravated

The once calm sea

 

They asked questions

That I couldn't speak

That I couldn't answer

 

My own self didn't understand

What had happened

What was going on

 

The chaotic sensation of not being in control

Of my feelings

My emotions

My thoughts

 

How will I even have control again.

 

Blank.

 

Ink.

 

I gasp for air

My hand reaches out  

 

There

In my hands

A safe line

 

The pen.

 

I lay the pen softly on the paper

As if to not harm it

For I knew pain

 

I choke out in ink what i couldn't say  

 

I am able to distinguish between sobbing

And words

 

It all seems to find its place

In between each space

In between each curve

In between each period

 

There's finally clarity.  

 

Finally the pandemonium of my head

Is silent.

 

The horrendous waves of rumination

Are silenced

 

Slowly sliding onto the paper.

 

My sobs turn to words.

 

My tears turns to strength.

 

Im free.   

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Guide that inspired this poem: 

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