I have so many words inside my mind
racing around my consciousness

I thought, I wanted, to be a poet
I didn't think I would feel so bottomless

I can't stop thinking about rhymes and signs
and what words seem to have the most feeling
"Do the words I hear inside my brain actually have any meaning?”

I thought, it would be, a way to express myself
A way to keep my heart beating

But the more that I write, the more words I find
circling through my head

They keep me up at night, not a soul in sight
Can I please just go to bed

I read to forget
I read to feel
I read to escape
I read to heal

I read to remember
I read to distract
I read to connect
I read to backtrack

I’m okay when I read
but it hurts when I don’t
Characters are my friends
when my real friends won’t

The words are my freedom
from this desolate kingdom
Isolated by feedback and uncontrollable flashbacks

I need release from the pain
To breakout of these chains
They torture my brain
looking to blame

I keep running away
from the grief in my mind
I’m tortured by thoughts
I’m not ready to find

I’m trying to outpace my agony and resentment
But my only liberation is to accept contentment

My bookcase is filling with more empty reads
Who am I kidding, what more could I need