Heart shaped words
appear on my screen,
inspiration comes from
within.
My thoughts leave me,
only to find a home
in a place you can
read what I am thinking,
experiencing.
Thumbs enter letters
which turn into something
that reminds me of you.
A pen swirls and dances
all about; paper
soaks up my memories,
exposing me to those
who care.
Everyone is given a choice,
to read
             (embrace my passions),
or not to read
                       (ignore my struggles).
Misunderstanding my muse
gives birth to apathy,
with the final result being
that I write.
Alone.