Irememberwriteing iwas
alwayswriteinghopingsomeonewouldseeit
askabout it...
noone did
but thatdid notstop mefromwriteing
mywords where my
escape
frommylife
icould writeof
love, mystery,
andahero
noone sawthepain
though the painmy
words
iwassilent
for so long
andwhen i
finally began toscream
aboutmy
painandsuffering
my mental abuseand
physical...
I wastold tobesilentand i
was
i leanedon
someone
whotookjoy inmypain . Bythe timei relizedthat
shetook apartof me
Iwent
tomywords
myonly
friendmy
onlyfriend
and i mademy artthrew
them
my wordsmade me
feel alive.
ihopepeople
fellowhumans
canfind the
same love
threw something as
constructive
andnot become
destructive
as somany
arenow.