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.
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