Teardrops splatter onto the blank parchment
Shaping themselves into
swirling  lines of emotions.

Words give meaning to the lump in my throat
And my chest feels lighter
As if It had burst open spilling dark ichor,
Purifying my soul.

This sheet carries the weight of all my anger, guilt and hurt.
After I have drained myself of thought
I am a flower blooming ,
breaking free  from the dirt.

Once again when the worldly storms
Make me shrivel and pass,
Language and ink will forever be my Philtatos. (Fil-te -tos) (beloved)