Catharsis

Catharsis Writing frees me from the depths of doubt, the fear of releasing my most hidden demons, demons I have held at bay and at the same time nourished with my hate. Is it so much harder to speak the words than to place them on paper? The paper does not judge, nor grimace, nor squirm in its seat, it stares blankly at me not a bit intimidated. The words can be recalled when writing, corrected, chosen with care so as to convey the loneliness of the demon keeper, the rage of the too young prey, the wrath of an unknown victim. The demons are not his, but mine, remnants of disgust grown into hate, fed to keep alive the will to live, to fight, to persevere, to live or at least go through the motions while the battle raged within me. A battle of the hows and whys, a battle never won but waged in peace, the endless quest for ease. Ease within myself and with myself to be myself, to befriend my demons and thank them for the hate that steeled my will and praise them for the rage that fueled my passion, to reward them for their valor with the courage to write the odious words, lay bare the angst concealed through age, and free both they and me. And so I write of them, and me, and loneliness and of the battles fought and yet to be, and thank the blank un-judging pages for their trust and curse the coward that I be. 8/13/2013 Strength Thru Adversity Poetry Contest Gregory R. Barden - contest sponsor