Hello, paper how are you?
Haven't written in a while,
Can't seem to verbalize much anymore,
But all of this finally makes sense.
The handwritten curves and slashes bring comfort.
Writing this chaos out in a map
To lead me soul back to my muse,
That desertion of debatable blame,
Has silenced me and brought me to old ways.
For if medium of paper fails, to flesh I turn for canvas,
The flow of ink throbs and calms
This habit that deceitfully isolates me,
When for connection I yearn
So all alone tonight, I choose paper.