Sitting there with an undefined script,
Ink marks dispersed throughout its edges-
A hand, faltering at every last thought.
Quiet murmurs, only leading to more scribbles.
Each and every word creeping around,
With each phrase sending a sharp pain throughout,
A feeling of hate and angst-
Anger continually building and building.
Tears held back without hesitation,
Yet, an inevitable wipe blocks what could be.
Shielding the outside world
And clenching the notebook firmly.
Knees up, pushed against your chest,
With the pages of sorrow caught in between.
Clenching tighter and tighter,
As your misery becomes too much to handle.
Squeezing yourself as if hugging the one you thought you loved,
Only to let go and let it out-like he did.
Legs falling back to the floor
As thoughts of remorse fade into the night.
Seizing the pen once more,
Grabbing the opportunity to express and relieve
A tormented soul, lest trying not to run astray-
Caught up in the dramas of life.
Pressing the point to the paper,
And letting it all out.
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