Dreamlike

Words spill onto the page
As I gasp,
The sharp edge of the pen flows
Dreamlike, as it tears through my soul.
Invisible scars
That no one can see
Unless they read
Am I to be any less ashamed?
It is a guilty pleasure
Like using a knife to seek relief,
Yes, even clarity-
For the ink refuses to pool together,
Always demanding motion
Until at last I throw down my pen in fury
Else it drops from feeble fingers

a reply to: LucidWarrior

I've missed your prose dear Warrior. Wonderful!

a reply to: Night Star

just my prose?

a reply to: LucidWarrior

No, not just your prose.