Living Words

Such a built up tension a fiery burning sensation I become an export station I scream, let it out It is trapped I know not what it is but what it is is pain, longing, depression,hope anticipation, loss, gifted, Jaded, faded glory, a whory version of my true potential and release is so damn crucial I write to escape and indulge Relieve me Pen Pad Good, bad, sad, Here for me and who will see But let it out Lest I pout For lack of expunge And take a fatal plunge And dive head first to meet my thirst and bleed on paper To see my true feelings, my mortality, my life, me.