I am never sure where my words are going with in terms of explanation…

but my mind is full of thoughts nevertheless, & I feel in my heart that
my hands were destined to write. it’s a morning ache that replaces my
tired eyes usually appear, midnight desire even when your mind draws
a blank. the anxiety when writer’s block makes its way into my brain
& closes the gate of creativity, staining the mind with endless doubts.

The misery of it could drive a writer mad, and it has for the most
I find it’s the only thing enough to drive me over the edge of mind.

Emotional pain is by far the worst because it’s not visible
you can’t see a broken poet because they’d smile for you only
and instead write their souls and hearts out on paper to heal.

Some use band-aids to heal or shield their pain, and others, well…
they express it differently, on blank paper; through words.