Verbal Therapy
by: trista groulx

These word have become my prison
Yet, they are my freedom
Written about someone now a shadow
But, written solely for me
This, these words, my therapy
A diary of sorts
My personal history
Set upon these pages
Reminding me of my past
Somehow, different for each reader
These words have become my prison
Trapped upon the paper
Hidden between the lines
The truth can be found
Somehow too, these words, my freedom
These words, a contradiction
Written about so many shadows in my history
But always written solely for me, my therapy