when I began to write
poetry

I was amazed to find
that I even
had a voice.

It was a gift
that I never
hoped for.

I only tried to share the light.
But there was too much
darkness.

Little by little
I had to write
about the monsters
in the deep.

And my writing
got to be
unrecognizable.

I thought to myself
Those couldn't be
my words.

Sometimes it felt like I was
in a grave
in a big old box
Which seemed to extinguish
The flame that ignited in the first place
And so here I am
trying to balance injury
with hope for a new future

That may be called
healing.
(MSM)