I think that
To write
You have to feel
You have to dig down deep
And tear open your heart
Pull out all of the emotions
That you’ve buried for so long
Then bleed, bleed onto the paper
Your inner turmoil scrawled in blood
Bleed yourself dry of all emotion
Claw it out of your chest
And onto paper
In the hopes that somebody
Maybe just somebody
Has felt like you too

The best source of warmth
Comes from feet intertwined
And pairs of legs crossed
It comes from two hearts
Beating as one
It comes from the closeness
And the breath of another
The best source of warmth
Comes from arms holding
And eyes gazing
It comes from a body
That is not your own
But belongs to the person
Who now holds you
Close to their heart

The author reached into her book
And over her characters she took
She attached strings to the humans
Led them to their happiness or ruin
Controlled who they became
And made not one the same

She painted trees with her eyes
And created mountains and skies
She let the scenes drip from her fingers
Onto the pages as her influence lingers
She slowly created worlds and wars
Fabricated houses and hidden doors

She plunged into her story without a thought
And the rest of reality she forgot
She painted with her mind body and soul
A masterpiece of her own control

From her tale and made up lands
She slowly removed her hands
and the author came back to the world
To recreate her story already once told

If I let myself think
I feel myself begin to sink
For one second
I feel my demons beckon
“Come on down,” They’ll say
“We can play all day
It’s fun down here
And there is no fear.”
If I let them into my mind
The world is left behind
And shrouded over
As the demons take over
If I let myself think
I might just sink
And let the demons come in;
Let them wear me thin
Maybe I’ll kick them out
But then I’m in doubt
Of whether it’s worth it
To fight and leave myself split
Between the good and the bad
Between the happy and the sad
So they might just stay
Until I decide to push them away
And if I let myself think
Further into my demons I’ll sink

“You have to move, get up.”
“I don’t want to.”
“This is sad you need to get over yourself.”
“I’m broken, and I don’t think I can be fixed.”
“Then fake it. Get up and put on a smile.”
“It hurts too much; I just want to cry.”
“No crying! It’s not worth it.”
“But I just can’t let go…”
“You have to move on. It’s the only way.”
“Please, all I want is five minutes to let it all out.”
“You’re pathetic. Fine. Five minutes.”
“Thank you,” said the heart.
“You’re welcome,” said the mind.
And the heart and mind cried together.
Just for five minutes.