Sitting, watching, waiting

Anxiously awaiting the magic within to flow onto the page

Pen positioned

Finally, it begins

The words spill out across the white lined paper like water over sand

Purposeful and strong

The words are nearly too much to handle

But I've had practice

The magic ceases

I turn numb

Without the soft pressure of the words to

Hold me down

I am nothing

Floating….

Drifting away….

Drifting away…..

Out of reach…

Out of earshot….

Out of mind….

It is dark out here

In this weightless reality

Not a dark like space

With the light of the stars to comfort you

More like the darkness that has only one

Escape

The escape that so rarely finds

The people who seek it most

The darkness of silence

The darkness without

Meaning

Crushing in its

Weightlessness

Darkness without words…

Literally

Without the words to love….

To comfort…..

To even care….

Only the words of which we do not

Wish to hear resound in this darkness.

They are barely heard

Just loud enough to make you feel

Insane

Words of hate….

Despair…..

Anguish….

And then

When all hope seems lost

You see the

Light

The light that is still

Dark

A dark vibrancy

The words that are still as

Pitch black

As the hate you

Do not wish to feel.

Darkness turned by your

Hand

Into something

Beautiful

Poetry

Poetry: the power

The release

Of finding

Beauty

Desire

In something that

Normally repels all things

Good

This is my release

For at this moment

I am in the darkness

Turning the horrific silence….

Into something

Worth listening to

Something

I hope you hear

For I am still

Out of sight

Out of reach

Out of earshot…

But not entirely

I think

Out of mind

A/N—This was one of the first poems I wrote. I feel proud of it, but I know it was dark for a ten-year-old's mind

Reviews are greatly welcomed