There were days and nights where I felt so alone.

Maybe it's in the way of how I covered myself in a blanket as I looked into the eyes of my pillows saying,
"Yes, you are my only company".
Tears were the ocean I swam every night to teach myself not to drown in pouring sadness.
The deafening silence screamed at my loud brain to do something. My brain didn't respond.
It held me hostage.
It kept my eyes on the silver pen.
My arms were a robot to the pain.
My skin was an art of havoc.
My blood was the tear of my laughing loneliness.
I took the pen, the voice of my thoughts, and hid it to its hiding place.
The tears that came from both me and my loneliness already stopped.

"Your words used to be my company,"
I told myself as I looked at my art.