Flowing out of my burning brain and into my aching hand. Pumping blood into my finger tips and nerves listening to my mind and it’s cries. The ink glides into the blank page as they become one, absorbing my pain. Cleansing me of my punishing thoughts. I write and write until my hand goes numb and my mind grows faint. It all made sense to me. The words jumping off the page and flying into the next thought. The name of who I love somehow appeared on the page, more than once. All the stories of my past and theories lingered as well. If one were to read it they wouldn’t understand, they wouldn’t even know where to begin because it only makes sense to the owner of the thoughts that lit fire to the page. Tuck it away somewhere no one could see, see the secrets I kept so well, see the depth of my soul trapped in the black ink.