My bestest friend
Is alive and active,
Painting
My joys
And bleeding my sorrows
Across
Snowy sheets.

I lay
My
Burden
On my closest
Friend,
And it doesn't
Sigh.
It just
Listens
Without
Interrupting,
Without
Thinking,
"Here we go again."

It drips
Oil
Each time
I speak
Of love
And
Bleeds
When life
Cuts
My spine
And
Breaks
My
Fragile
Dreams.

This is my personal friend,
My pen,
The
One
I use to
Heal
Myself.

This is my friend,
The one who
Keeps
My
Secrets,
Never
Thinking,
"Get over it already!"

My friend,
The pen,
The
One
With
Eternal
Ink,
The
One
Who
Loves
Me
Unconditionally.

It lets me speak
Endlessly.
When people
Are nowhere
To be found,
And I am afraid,
And I am lonely,
I run to my friend.

And I pour
Myself into
This tiny
Vessel
And I travel
Into another
World,
A world
That cares solely
About me.

© 2011