Thoughts flow through me like a stream, Behind closed eyes I see. Words pour from me like a fountain, Words that set me free.

I take my paper out again, The pen shakes in my hand. Behind locked doors the words all hide, My mind screams this demand:

Don't you do it, don't you dare, Just let it go away. Don't make me tell you everything, The darkness rests today.

The paper reaches out for me, I do not touch my pen. I'd rather not begin this now, For fear it might not end.

Memories flood back to me, So much I feel I'll burst. I close my eyes and bit my lip, Remembering the worst.

I look back to the paper, and, I look back to my pen. I look back to my shaking hand, And whisper, "That was then."

Something brightens in my soul, As darkness turns to light. I draw in breath, I clear my mind, My hand begins to write.

I write of things that could have been, I write of things to be. No longer bound by chains of woe, My writing sets me free.