What good is art if no one sees it?
Silent, unwitnessed catharsis.
The magic is in the witnessing.
I still write (emo) poems.
I've been too self-conscious to share them
...not even that really.
I've been protecting myself
after many periods of over-sharing.
My poems are a reflection of the deepest part of me,
things I don't speak out loud.
I lost trust.
I lost faith in the world.
In you.
In your ability to witness me,
to make space for me,
to hold me the way I really am.
Yet,
I keep writing,
compelled by the demons in me.