My Pen

I picked up a pen one day
And set it to paper
And words flew out
My secret fears and desires
Seeped onto the page
Suddenly I’m looking at myself
With my own eyes
I’m a different person than I thought
No better
No worse
Just different
So I pick up another pen
And set it to paper
To see what else I can teach myself
Where do I want to go?
What do I want to see?
Who do I want to love?
It all reveals itself on the page
Finally I’m living a life worth living
Even if it is
In the pages of my notebook
So I don’t put the pen down
Even when I should
Because when its in my hand
When I set it to paper
I can make the pain go away
Or I can make the pain worse
I can FEEL
So I continue to write
Continue to discover myself
My hidden sexuality
My thirst for adventure
My longing for lust and love and friendship
Because the second I drop the pen
It all goes away
And I know nothing about myself
Or my secret fears and desires
I have nothing to teach myself
No life worth living
No longing or thirst to explore
So I cling to my pen
I cling to the paper
Praying that they are an anchor and a sail
Both at once
My tools for staying grounded
My means of floating away

3 thoughts on “My Pen

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