Writing is a release of emotion
Whether joy, sadness, hope, or pain.
It is self-expression:
A colorful mess of half-formed thoughts
Laid out on the page
That intimate sensation of drama and clarity
That writing brings
That special significance of creation
Is a pacifier.
I pull at the raw, red strings of emotion
So tangled and sharp
And force them into something beautiful.
The calm flow of words
Is both soothing and senseless.
With a tendency towards cliché
And a flair for the dramatic.
It is an outlet
And a drug.
God is an unlikely fantasy
And confiding in others is difficult.
Sometimes I write in a half-hope
That others will see
Other times I write
Only to reflect.
The words are meaningful
They are impulsive and deliberate,
Idiotic and wise.
They are therapy and art,
But most of all they encapsulate
My state of mind
Although these words are flawed,
They are perfect