I find peace is when I
Write.
The pen is no longer a
Pen.
My mouth is no longer a
Mouth.
The pen is a mouth,
Talking.
Not only talking but,
Screaming.
And sometimes it’s only
Whispering.
Sometimes I write what happened that
Day.
But mostly I write about my
Past.
Trying to collect my memories on
Paper.
Putting the stories in chronological
Order.
Trying. Always trying to
Remember.