the written word.

there are times I want to write.
an urge comes over me
like something needs to be said.
so I sit at my computer and wait
for the words to come.
and yet, I falter,
as I often do.

writing is my therapy.
the emotions I try so valiantly to deny
have a way of coming to life
with the written word.
so I sit at my computer and write
hoping to learn:
about myself, about others,
about life.

words can be like knives
or like a simple song with a
perfect melody.
and here I seek to find the song,
rather than the knives
from fear they may destroy.
so I sit at my computer and wait
for the song to be sung
with the faintest recognition
of a sweet, melodic sound.

there are times I want to write.
but the words make little sense.
everything I hope to say
is just a glimpse too far from reach.
and so I sit at my computer and write
as little and as much as I can.
praying that, in time,
the words on the screen
show the truth behind the lies.

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