My pen is a blade,
and I use it to cut the thin paper of my mind.
When the tip of the pen cuts though,
immediately the words are out and spilling on the paper.
The paper becomes a total mess,
as if someone stacked too much in a small envelope and that someone was me.
My pen is like my blade;
it helps me to release everything.
My pen is like my blade,
my mind is an envelope.
Together they make one almighty team.
They can either save me,
or they can destroy me.
- v.m
YOU ARE READING
happiness + sadness.
PoetryWe write to write to escape what it is that is hidden in the deepest crevasses of our minds, to escape from the reality that brings us down, to forget that the world is sometimes terribly cruel. We write to get the words out of our heads that we ha...
