Most would say I'm the creative type
But those who know me
Understand that I'm just really good
At torturing myself
Inflicting pains beyond physical
Pains that I then mend and heal
With words to bring solace and comfort
Because I know nobody else is coming to do it
Nobody else will sit next to me
Nobody else is here to hug me
Nobody else wants to comfort me and wipe my tears
So I create words of emotion
Pictures of fiction
I find my peace here
In writing
Not the creative kind, I was never good at that
But the healing kind
The writing that gives some vague semblance
Of the comfort I so desperately crave
