The act of writing
Transporting the brain onto paper
Or scrap of fabric
Even back of receipt
To a donut bought
Months ago
When you had a dollar to spare
Is wonderful in its act
Unloading the mind
And crying your eyes out
Once you can read
Everything that your heart is feeling
Because it makes it easier to understand
Is beautiful in its act
Wanting to punch something
Destroy the walls surrounding you
Break the ties holding you back
And cursing
And screaming
Like a fucken sailor standing on rooftops
Is reassuring in its act
Feeling the need
To pour your soul out
But never wanting
Another living soul to hear the words
But perhaps read them
In their own silence
Mull them around
In their own mind
With their own hearts
Is lovely in its act
The act of ink to paper
To skin
Something
To get it out of yourself
And to be able to see it
With new eyes
Is the act we need to live
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Book 4
Poetryhello again! another poetry book - number four, to be exact. if you've been here a while, you know the drill: there's no order to this thing, and after 100 poems or writing pieces, there's gonna be a new book. about the cover: it was a Thursday at S...
