Someone asked me what I do well,
I didn't know and couldn't tell
Never really thought about that,
I had always worn the same hat
Decided I should go find out,
who I am, what am I about?
Set out on a journey to see,
my aspirations, my realities,
Found out I liked to write,
couldn't turn it off at night
Pen to paper opened in me,
a hidden talent, an ability
Bought a journal & set down,
it became therapeutic, I found
Couldn't get words out fast enough,
I felt self-conscious opening up
Now keeping it in hurts me more,
so many stories behind these doors
Now it's second nature to me
to be starting journal twenty-three
Feels so good, just to breathe,
to get all of this out of me
Writing is everything to me, it is my outlet. I used to repress everything. Even these poems have only recently been seen by anyone.