Teardrops splatter onto the blank parchment Shaping themselves into swirling lines of emotions.
Words give meaning to the lump in my throat And my chest feels lighter As if It had burst open spilling dark ichor, Purifying my soul.
This sheet carries the weight of all my anger, guilt and hurt. After I have drained myself of thought I am a flower blooming , breaking free from the dirt.
Once again when the worldly storms Make me shrivel and pass, Language and ink will forever be my Philtatos. (Fil-te -tos) (beloved)