I trap memories in verse
scribbling in my sleep
etching them so deeply…
they become permanent marks
fading slowly over time…
leaving beautiful scars
it’s a medication…needed to survive
{pre}scribed for internal healing
it comes with no deadening properties
no sedatives…
but it’s my personal narcotic
I won’t deny the addiction
but it’s one I can live with
no pills to swallow except Truth
which…I admit…can be bitter
but it’s so much better…
than the atrophy of mind and spirit
guaranteed to follow…
if I don’t cleanse the infection
so I go inside…
and I pen it
taking the dose most needed
breathing a sigh of relief…
as the pain slowly begins easing
because when expression is the physician…
silence will kill
silence will…kill
silence…will kill
I second this addiction. I feel lost and unfocused if I do not write.
Buncha word junkies up in here…as it should be
I third this addiction.
I love the written word..mine and others.
Great write,right,rite,wright….lol
Love the word play there! Thank you, Peter
Very relatable Willow. Thank you for sharing 💕
I figured I’d be preaching to the choir here. Thank you, Drieks 😊
Brilliantly penned, Willow. Into the book it belongs! Infectious vibe your words and the musical arrangement my friend. It’s the one addiction that I feed and I refuse to kick. You summed it up well as you always do. Loved this one Willow. Excellent work. Appreciate you.
Damian
I think this addiction is more healing than harming. It’s how we clear headspace and reset. About whatever is naggin’ the noggin. I knew you would feel this one too. Thank you, my friend
You express perfectly what most of us here feel, dear Willow! It’s the same with me – I scream, weep, bleed and laugh my soul onto the paper.
We are a special breed. I’m just glad we have a little safety bubble here. Thank you, Elke
It’s horrific, that ‘silent scream’, the self-reflection not seen in the mirror, the expression held inside. I hear your pen, Willow. It’s LOUD!!! But I welcome it. Let the ink flow, make Rorschach’s of rage across the page. Just know, you are seen!
Curt
As long as I’m “screaming,” no need to worry. If I suddenly stop…check for a pulse. Thank you, Curt
The more we get those memories out and on paper the less silence has a chance to keep destroying. I’ll take that narcotic along with you, never allowing my story to deaden me either.
I’ll keep saying it, you’re phenomenal with that pen, girl.
I don’t run the pen. It runs me, girl. As Shrek said…Better out than in. Excise the wounds so they can heal clean. Thank you, girl. You wield a mighty pen yourself
Brilliant work.
Thank you, Thomas