pale writer

 
delicate was the day
with tears streaming down the dawn's face
I first saw her, vulnerable lady
broken from the battle
shaken she gets to her feet
I blink and see this lady is me

still reeling from the pain
my mind misfiring I struggle to think
focus is the taskmaster

running here and there
not knowing where the fire is
I slow down and realize it's inside of me
little girl lost is whispering
she is driving me mad
with an urgency, she makes herself known

I ache with the need to be myself
but honestly, I don't know who that is
I want to go back to the days of confidence
even though it wasn't my own
it was on loan...
from the alcohol and drugs I did

so I falter in the light
speaking quietly
a woman shy with questions
will I ever be like I was?

it's frightening me
I feel the real me pales in comparison
to the Dark Queen, I was
who wrote on point
but who's pen was it
the devil's or mine?

so I write to save my life
I won't be beaten, my voice stilled
fuck you demons
starve here inside me or get lost

I will find my writing legs
I will learn to recognize my own voice