Little Things in Life

What I Write

The words that I write, 

they carry more than 

the words I say. 

My eyes are blurred,

my mind's tears glazing it, 

 but no tears touch my face.

The words that I write, 

carry the emotions that

only thunder and rain can feel. 

When you see me, 

sitting in the dark,

 you see nothing. 

When you hear me, 

soft and quiet voiced, 

you hear nothing. 

When you feel me, 

warm but shivering, 

you do not feel me. 

You do not know the pain I feel, 

the things I've seen, 

and the voices I hear.

When you see me cry, 

you've only seen a tenth 

of the tears I really cry. 

When I write, 

rivers of my soul, 

freezes me within it. 

What I write holds so much, 

so much more than I can 

possibly say. 

You can not see the stars, 

the rivers, the fire, or the wind, 

behind my eyes.

But tip of the pencil pierces 

through my skin,

and then I'm a naked mess. 

 You try to taste my mind, 

but you only get the fruit, 

while I am always left with the bitter seeds. 

The words I say, 

they mean nothing compared

to the words I write.