I drift in and out of dreams,

The shadows flit around in the deepest recesses,

Of my troubled mind,

Chasing away the memories forever,

And yet the pain still lingers.

The rough hand grips my heart,

And squeezes, the rivulets of ink running,

Painting my smarting body black and blue,

Pooling at my feet, the reflection, faceless…

I sit curled up, tense, pen poised,

Ink dripping onto the blank white sheet before me,

The emptiness so consuming,

No words can express the feeling, nothing comes,

It’s just not the same.