the power of the pen.

Trapped in a prison of my own design

iron bars built by the worst of my thoughts

chained to a bench made of steel

shackles tearing into my skin

as my feet rest on fiery coals

light flickering until it fades

hands grasping my head

trying to tear out my brain

one hair at a time

scars on my wrist burn

tiny reminders of my suffering

as the sweat pours down my face

setting my eyes ablaze

as they make rivers of my pain

Alone

the devil on my shoulder

my only company

Forgotten

everyone knows

nobody sees

no love to spare

I'm going to die here.

No.

I'm going to write myself free.

I am the warden

i own the key

it's broken and mangled

but i can make it whole again

piece by piece

even if it turns to dust

i'll sweep it away

create new pieces

to solve this puzzle

because i know the truth

everything broken

was once brand new

never lost am i

for i can always be found

I choose to

Persist

Persist

Persist

because i deserve to

Exist

Exist

Exist

I am an artist

I can always create

tissues for my tears

cloth for my face

I'll break this shackle and chain

summon the rain

let it wash away

this coat of darkness

My pen saves me from this place

I'll keep it ready for another day

because I might be back

but I'll never stay.