I want to write, she said.
I want to dream, she cried
I want to love, she screamed
I want to live, she roared
But the shadows weren’t listening
And the lights were flickering
They couldn’t hear her pleas
Her begging
In that cold
Dark
Prison of a
Mind.
So she drew in
Blood
In
Bone
In
Tears
In
Broken glass
In
Dawns
Dusks
Midnights
Starlights
And she crafted
The most beautiful
Breath stealing
Heart thieving
Blood boiling
Stories in this
Pitiful
World.
And she
Made them
Listen