Writing is words on a paper
that don't mean anything
at least that's what she tells us.
I can't believe her though
watching her grow
and elevate her craft
to a science
She must know the feelings
she evokes
the emotions she draws
as her reader crawls across
her page
Pain and tension
Joy and laughter
spring and fall
the duality of a two sided coin
that flips forever
and
       ever
and
      ever
and
      No, I can't believe her
She knows the value of sharing
The way to get what she wants from
her reader
from a friend
Sometimes life is harder to deal with
more than popcorn
and rainbows
Sometimes there is fog;
heart-rending
crush of sorrow.
Sometimes there is clarity;
soul-lifting
openness of joy.
Sometimes her pen spills ink
like blood from her wrists communicating
her ransom.
I see it in her.
She says that writing is words on a paper
that don't mean anything

She carries that sadness