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Monday, September 30, 2013


Writing is how I hear myself
How I know I have a voice
Where I tell the unacceptable truth
How I talk myself down from the ledge
My anti anxiety pill
My company on the bad days
And there are so many bad days

Gives me
Temporary peace
Relief from what is hurting

I write so much
Because I hurt so much

And all that
Finds its way to paper
Started as hurt
Started as a big ball of pain
That had to get itself sorted
Had to get itself out of my guts
So I could keep moving

I’m sure I’d cry more
If I didn’t write
Probably implode
If I wasn’t able
To name my pain

Because hurt
Needs a name
And pain
Needs a voice

Even if no one wants to hear it
Even if no one is listening
Even if it’s my own voice
I am listening
I hear it
And I want to know
What it has to say

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