I don’t write to make you feel pain
I write with hope you may better understand my soul

You.
Are.
A.
Walking.
Masterpiece.

Everyone says it gets better
But does it?

Goodbye to a wonderful person
Who’s voice inspired us to learn
A comforting presence in many homes
You will be missed

Do you still talk to your old friends?
No
Because I don’t know what to say
We went from seeing each other daily
To once a week, a month, to never
Now they’ve left
So no, I don’t
Because we walked away from one another
And looking back causes me pain

All I want to do is sit and write
Ignore all the other **** in the world
I have a story waiting to be told
But no time to tell it

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa­aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa­aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa­aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa­aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa­aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

I know I’m not writing the great American novel
I’m not a poet who’s words will be sung out for centuries
I know that just a handful out there even hear the words I say
But it’s enough for me to know that I’ve told my story to anyone who decided to listen

It took me seven years
to realise
the words in my mind
were too deep for
my mouth to dig up
I thought it was easier
to open my skin
and let the truth
pour down my arms

It took me seven years
to realise
nobody should be allowed
to touch parts
of your home
or hold pieces  
of your heart
that you don't yet understand

It took me seven years
to realise
I will wear these scars
forever
I'll carry them
through every smile
every kiss
every concerned gaze
I'll carry them
to my grave

It took me seven years
to realise
the pain carved
into the walls
of my castle
etchings of
attempting to disappear
are not a story of weakness
but a tale of
how I survived