I can't write.
This emotion is too complex to convey.
With you out of sight,
There isn't an easy way.

To express my emotions,
And how I truly feel.
This motion,
Is becoming so real.

Letting my mind wander.
It always leads back to you.
As I sit and ponder,
You haven't a single clue.

I am hurt on the inside
And my heart is broken.
To sit here and cry
With no words spoken.

This pen and paper are all I know.
Subconsciously expressing,
Continuous growth.
This is too depressing,
But I can't let it show.

I will sit here and write,
Until the day,
I wither up and die.
There isn't any other way
I know how to live my life.

No matter,
How bad I'm hurt
Or what you say,
This paper
Won't leave me astray.

So writing is what I have,
And it will never leave my side.
Answering my questions,
Healing the scabs.
Writing is here,
To hold me when I cry.

My life, and my soul
Are in this.
No matter how cold,
Or treacherous the abyss,
I always do this
Without a single miss.

Whenever I,
Need to cry,
Or feel as if I want to die,
This pen will always stay true,
Of expressing my emotions to you.