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Dripping in Ink

I stare at my pen as if it’s a bloody dagger from Hell;
Unsure of what may pour out from the other side.
 
Am I scared . . .
Anxious . . .
Angry . . .
 
What am I afraid of?
 
Why am I choosing to not to unveil my truth?
I Have so much to say and this pen . . .  
This dagger from hell is my therapy. My safe haven.  
 
So why do I hide from it? Run from it?
Don’t make time for it?
 
When this bloody dagger from hell is my solace; my truth.  
My own possession and my youth.
 
Why do I put my pen back on the shelf?
What am I suppressing from myself?
Written by Shanty
Published
Author's Note
I am at a loss. for some reason I am afraid to write . . . HELP
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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