"With this pen...."

A Poem by Tiera R.

The music flows
and my pen leaks droplets of pain,
pain that once filled my battered heart
liquefied into black ink when torn apart-

But it only removed the scars, not the memories
it only removed my gain, not my pain
so I write-
it takes place of the fall, of where I once felt lost
replaced with a void, but this is no temporary fulfilment, no
for the time being.
no, this.
this is love. this keeps my mind from spinning, my thoughts from tempting
With this pen, i keep it scribbling.
and at that point, I no longer have any control, of my soul
I let it take a hold as a whole.

i want to be as free as a bird.
i want to love truly and be loved unconditionally.
truth be told I would like some of the things i'm not sure if I give correctly myself
I'm honest.
s**t, my mind is like the most polluted environment next to earth-
next to the bullshit they put on tv, in magazines,
newspapers full of nothing but bad news baby
s**t, I'm honest.
but i'm pure, my love is real, and that alone will protect you like the navy protects it's seals
but f**k trying to prove that
instead, I write-

My emotions fill a blank white piece of notebook paper
in humans i don't really confine
because i'm misunderstood and not very good at hiding it
so at times I cry-
embracing my pain, my gains, my different,
peculiar, so only peculiar sees the difference
its so hard for me too explain
my heart hurts on a worldly basis, my shoulders are filled w/ a weigh I can't quite grasp alone
Heh.. but I'm grasping.
all this praying and praising, but in my mind, i'm asking
Lord I'm doing right by you so send me a sign on why my world,
the world around me is steady crashing.
so I write-
I place my pain upon this paper
sending every ounce of it from my body into this pen
pulling out darkness, sin, into this pen
crying streams, pouring my dreams into this pen
my fears, my doubts, the realist, inside and out.
like survival of the fittest,
My pen tells me i'm built for this.