Sitting, watching, waiting

Anxiously awaiting the magic within to flow onto the page

Pen positioned

Finally, it begins

----------------------------

The words spill out across the white lined paper like water over sand

Purposeful and strong

----------------------------

The words are nearly too much to handle

But I've had practice

----------------------------

The magic ceases

I turn numb

---------------------------

Without the soft pressure of the words to

Hold me down

I am nothing

---------------------------

Floating….

Drifting away….

---------------------------

Drifting away…..

Out of reach…

Out of earshot….

Out of mind….

---------------------------

It is dark out here

In this weightless reality

Not a dark like space

With the light of the stars to comfort you

---------------------------

More like the darkness that has only one

Escape

The escape that so rarely finds

The people who seek it most

---------------------------

The darkness of silence

---------------------------

The darkness without

Meaning

Crushing in its

Weightlessness

---------------------------

Darkness without words…

Literally

---------------------------

Without the words to love….

To comfort…..

To even care….

---------------------------

Only the words of which we do not

Wish to hear resound in this darkness.

They are barely heard

Just loud enough to make you feel

Insane

---------------------------

Words of hate….

Despair…..

Anguish….

--------------------------

And then

When all hope seems lost

You see the

Light

-------------------------

The light that is still

Dark

A dark vibrancy

------------------------

The words that are still as

Pitch black

As the hate you

Do not wish to feel.

Darkness turned by your

Hand

Into something

Beautiful

------------------------

Poetry

Poetry: the power

The release

Of finding

Beauty

Desire

In something that

Normally repels all things

Good

----------------------

This is my release

For at this moment

I am in the darkness

Turning the horrific silence….

----------------------

Into something

Worth listening to

----------------------

Something

I hope you hear

----------------------

For I am still

Out of sight

Out of reach

Out of earshot…

----------------------

But not entirely

I think

Out of mind

A/N—This was one of the first poems I wrote. I feel proud of it, but I know it was dark for a ten-year-old's mind

Reviews are greatly welcomed