Escape

I write,

because I can't escape my thoughts.

I like to see them runaway on the paper.

I'm free, silence.

I don't write to put my voice out there,

I write to get it out from inside me.

sometimes I can't hear or feel anything else,

just the whispers of my thoughts

dancing across my brain.

my skin and bones are the walls that have grown

from the places I planted pain.

my rib cage is quite literally a cage,

one that keeps what is in, in

and what is out, out.

my rib cage is a straitjacket

and my anxiety just swallowed the key.

poetry is a gauge that releases some of the pressure.

It can give you a sneak peek

into the monstrosity that is my mind.

I don't write for your entertainment,

and I certainly don't do it for mine.

I write because I have to.

writing is less of an escape from reality,

and more of an escape from my head.

I'm not only writing when my pen is moving,

or my keyboard is typing.

I'm writing all the time.

I think in stanzas,

I live in the story of my mind.