The little things

Stories

Guys I've been meaning to thank you all for ages for the 11k readers!! I'm super chuffed!! Also side note, bearing in mind this is not a happy poem, I wrote scars and it autocorrected to Macarena so that was a great start. So here we go:

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Scars are from the stories we write on our arms with blades, that cause the red ink to flow down our pages.

And while the lines and shapes are not words they are perfectly understandable and the lines help build our own cages.

And these words they tell the stories of depression, of anger, of hurting, of bullying, of expression. They tell all the words our mouths dare not speak.

And while our mouths refuse to form the words, our hearts and our heads still feel the pain. And as our cages grow smaller, we do too. Week after week.

And tears they are stories too, but their stories are so powerful that they cause the ink to run and the lines to blur in others.

While their power is overwhelming the other stories, they link arms and form words with their brothers.

Their words speak of kindness, of sadness, of sanity of madness, of blood and of ink, they're more powerful than you think.

But don't let their stories run on, because with great power comes great danger. Their stories gather and pool, forming a lake in which you can drown and sink.

Our writing surfaces are not paper thin or paper white and therefore considered scrap, so the stories we write are rough and messy. They don't fit together but each piece has meaning.

And any words or sentences we don't like, we cover with others or scribble out. The stories change and evolve over time as our writing surfaces become worse and all the ink is bleeding.

So put down the blade and pick up a pen. Turn the lines and shapes into letters and words. Or type it out deleting and editing and hitting print.

And put it down on pages that are meant to be paper thin and paper white, stop using your body which should not be, it should be its size, it's shape, no different.

Put the emotions behind the words showing everything and everyone exactly how you feel. Escape the cage, become free from the torture.

Keep on writing, never give up. Even if sometimes you get stuck, eventually the right word will come along. With writing there's always the chance of the future.

And inspiration comes from everywhere, a book, a film, the sky, the floor. You never have to look or search, it suddenly appears, and you run with it happily.

And there's no cost, no price, no consequence. No secrecy, no lies, no worries, for the past for the future it's always guaranteed that writing is free.

So put down the blade and pick up a pen.

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