Sometimes, I grip my pen
So tight
My fingernails
Dig deep
Leaving behind cavernous indents
The remains of desperate claws
Marring the intricacies of my palm
A reminder to hold on
An indicator of what happens when
You let go

Sometimes, I write
So fast
With so much intensity
So much emotion
So much urgency
My pen
Catches and
Rips
Right through the page

But it's better.

It's better
To break through my paper with my pen
Than to slice through my skin with my blade

Everyday I have the choice
I make this choice
The pen
Or the blade

And today
I choose the pen

Because
One day
Someday
Out of all this
Ripping
Breaking
Slicing
Will come
Something

New