If you think of butterflies escaping from the ballpoint
Like coming up for air,
After being submerged in the ocean of fear
For 19 long years.
It’s possible that you could feel what I feel.
Feel that surge of energy
Like a nuclear bomb detonating in the water,
Nobody else worries about the fish that are going to die.
A rocket taking off,
5 4 3 2 1…
We have freedom!
The words soar across my page,
Leaving behind a trail of regrets
Disintegrated into the fire we call life.
If you can imagine the sun,
Dancing on the floor
Made by the horizon and clouds
Tapping and swaying to my increasing heart beat
Adapting to the rhythm I’ve convinced myself is an arrhythmia
Striking a pose in the final decibels of my silenced voice
You may be able to picture my joy
The purest drug
Coursing through my veins
My anxiety in rehab
Depression is in recovery
The light that reflects
From the contact of pen and page
A prism in my darkest of days
Comes from the depths of me
Fluid connection of letters
An illegible scrawl
Seems to be the only clarity I need
The only lens I can see through
A compass I can follow and a map I can read
Writing don’t you see
Is so much more to me than ink and trees
It’s one of the times
It feels okay
Just to be me