I write when I can
Upon the canvas which none shall see
I write for release
In the darkness of my room.
I write to express
So it doesn't leech into my life.
But writing doesn't seem
To be quite enough anymore.1
I need to talk,
But don't know how.
I need to speak,
But lost my thoughts.
I need to be heard,
But the words make no sense.2
I see they are worried;
I don't blame them.
I see they are scared;
I've lost my lovely eloquence.
I see they can't fathom
The world without me.
But seeing doesn't do much
When guilt is already there.3
I need to know,
But fear the knowledge.
I need to hope,
But it seems a lost cause.
I need to love,
But I only hurt them more.
So I'll write...
It's the only satisfaction for the pain.
Author notes
The only/first poem I've put on Storywrite. Enjoy.
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