Email Poem

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Poem

Every night I force myself to stay awake 
I stare at a screen until the effect of exhaustion temporarily wears off
I pry my eyelids open 
I yank at my hair
I press my back against the cool wall that lies adjacent to my bed
I do whatever I can to stay awake
Not for no purpose, of course
Pain is a small price to pay in consideration of what it is I’m paying for
What I’m receiving is far more valuable than what I’m giving
My temporary sacrifice of comfort could be held permanent for all I care 
But I need not give more than I must
What I’m receiving will bring me wealth but not in coin
What I’m receiving will not bring me joy but bring me something far more valuable
What I’m receiving will calm my racing mind
Will halt my thoughts if only so temporarily 
It will bring me to reason with the thoughts that have been ever so stowed away 
It will serve as a key to the many things that I have long locked up
It will bring me closer
Closer to a boy that I love in a way that will never be understood by his hurting mind or by his magical ability to yield a pen
It will make me a poet
A poet that longs to be heard by the suffering people of a suffering world
It will bring me language
Language so powerful that I can leave behind something that will be remembered if only by one person in a sea of children
Children who will never be able to understand true pain
Or children who could not utter the words of a life of agony that many will never know
The reason that I wake up every morning with sore red eyes or yawning wider than my endless but yet so limited sea of thoughts 
Is to write

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