Words don’t fit the page
Or crumble from my mouth
When I try to paint
My darkest moment.
This pen tilts
Scratching noisily
Scrapping the paper
Scrapping my skin.
The lines stay blank
A harsh white
A laughable contrast
To when my innocence left.
I choke on my tongue
Tell no one
Stare blankly.
I won’t spill. For now.
I don’t really like the last line. I like the sentiment but it’s just not working!
I want to throw rocks
At glass houses
Watch their windows shatter
And my world tumble.
I want to light a fire
That burns passionately
Leaving my picture-perfect house
In ruins
I want to be wild.
Feral in the woods.
An animal. Leaving
It’s safe haven behind.
I want to destroy my life
Start a new
Start again
To start living.
We came from nothing
A hapless void
Silent and empty of thought.
Green shoots breaking through
The field of grey.
An unknown vacuum.
Where life before
Has no substance
Or questions, or time.
Homegrown spirits.
Into the loud we’re born.
Trying to make sense
Of the chaos.
Of the pain. Of the laughter.
Of the relationships we form
And the hope they bring.
Before the quiet consumes us once again.