A Plain Page

I start this off without any words...

A plain page...

And the weight of my thoughts.


As I write...

I reveal myself...

and my misery.


These words are the battle I fight to exist...

To live...

And to grow.


As they reach your eyes...

The luxury of ignoring, hiding or running...

Disappears.

Once I have spilled myself onto the page...

It's no longer plain...

It's full of my pain.

I am exposed...

They are out...

It is real.


Words of truth from moments of agony...

And there is no going back...

Only moving forward.


These words roll around in my head...

And I must meet them...

If I choose to tackle my grief.


Obsessively I look back...

Scrutinizing what I have written...

Almost attempting to discriminate between fact and fiction.


Pulling back layers...

In an attempt to peer into my emotions...

From a rational place outside of myself.


They begin to separate from my psyche...

As I attempt to judge them as authentic...

Or as simply an invented paranoia.


These are hours spent analyzing...

What I have said, thought and felt...

And they read like a map.


They acknowledge where I have been...

But more importantly...

Where I intend to go.