It was a chess game.
I was once you're only queen.
You, knight on a steed.
You chased me around the board.
Only to make me your pawn.

Nothing in common.
Yet we dance to the same tune.
We are the music.

There are only so many truths
I can write.
Only so much creativity
Until it runs dry.
How much longer
till my hand reaches the blade?
How much more
Cathartic writing can finally
Keep my mind at bay?
I try to remember
When a busy mind controls a steady hand,
I should be mindful of the tools I put in it,
But I am only so strong.
I hate to admit it.
And yet,
Even now,
I continue to write.
My hand reaches for the pen
And rejects the knife.
Each line is a release,
A release of the pain my mind holds deep.
But there are only so many pages to fill,
Only so much ink to bleed.
One day,
The well will run dry,
And I will plead with myself,
But the page will remain blank,
And my mind will greet the knife
Like it had never left.
A silent surrender
That the scars
Will never let me forget,
And if the words don't come,
Will the blade be the next to speak again?
When words fail,
I will try to seek a different light.

My whole life,
I have been living within
The limitations.
A paint by the number,
No alterations.
My life,
Stunted
By the ones I loved.
Silence and obedience,
Their only form of love.
They made that truth
Run deep in my blood.
For in the silence,
They could prey
On my innocent love.
Mum's the only phrase
To keep their monsters at bay.
So I stayed silent.
I stayed compliant.
For years,
I found solace in the quiet.
And yet slowly
My courage peeked its head,
Became one with the paper,
And my story not only wept,
It bled.
It bled the truth,
With the words from my pen.
Unlimited by words,
I began.
I wrote of all my pain,
All the hate.
I wrote of my secret loves
And greatest shames.
With the pen I am a giant.
No reason to hide it.
With my words,
I become unlimited.
With my words,
A new world can begin.
A world of my own
Where the silence ends
And my life begins.

We can’t
reach out
and grab
the past
Life in the moment
never last
We have to
remember
The
good times
Retelling them
Keeps them alive
Truly great stories
Are conveyed in
The perfect time
memorable
rhyme