Title: “Pens” & “Needles”

pain brought me to dare pick up a pen; I suppose that’s how this all tends to begin; light-hearted words at first- finding one’s footing-though some old scraps offputting and perhaps a little absurd

I’ve learned this path to verse has been both a gift and a curse; conflicted between holding on and letting go because either way, there’s still hurt;

seems the pain’s taken over; and my words have gotten worse; there’s wounds that won’t heal- there’s this ache in my heart- and one’s mental a space that’s out of this earth….

not sure what to do- except numb out and sleep; half the time all feels broken- and the next way too deep…. thought writing could help me- though i internalize everything- like an overdose of “humanity”….

can’t help but have those thoughts that no longer creep- those thoughts either scream or are like whispers to me; those thoughts that say, “with life there’s no peace”- maybe or not this is all there will be- perhaps could be better but the design always speaks-“this place is temporary and one hell of a beast that doesn’t quite matter when one’s life is deceased….