A Long-Lost Friend

I never dreamt of being helpless,

in fact, it’s the reason for my strong senses.

Words saved me from my spiraling defamation that seemed endless,

Ironically, the ones that break you will always have your attention.


I never dreamt of being vulnerable,

because it was not logical.

Somehow as the daylight grew dimmer and the night engulfed me,

Those same emotions I despised were so unbearably comfortable.

They taught me that events are chronological,

Not what I wanted them to be.


I never dreamt of being powerful.

The power of the voice, the power of the pen,

It all lays within its locution.

With a flavor so intrinsic,

it evokes a mind that is peaceful.

Writing is not a ben,

but a perfect solution.

Something that doesn't need a reason to be considered specific.


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