I can’t put pen to paper…

I can’t put pen to paper

The devastation I feel inside

I have no vice to channel out

The rage and despair

I can’t even really cry

I can’t put pen to paper

How neatly tucked away

How organized

How every thought and memory

Were on neat little shelves

Compartmentalized

I can’t put pen to paper

How someone I loved

And thought loved me

Took a baseball bat and terrorized

The neatly kept home

Inside my head

Trashed everything into chaos inside

I can’t put pen to paper

How no matter the strain

I cannot scream

I don’t even have a voice

Above a whisper

That can cathartically allow me

To find a release to resolve the pain

I can’t put pen to paper

How I can’t understand

I can’t comprehend a mother’s love

To feel like sand paper

Against raw skin

I can’t put pen to paper

How helplessly I find myself

On my hands and knees

Picking up the pieces

Reorganizing for hours, days, weeks

Trying to fix

All the refucked up pieces of me

I can’t put pen to paper

How after years

Reestablishing my worth

Over a decade of finding my value

Ages of fighting self destruction

Familiar demons are banging

At my front door.

I can’t put pen to paper

How they creep under my bed

And slither under the sheets

Embracing me as I sleep

And accompany me

As the morning rays

Gently caress the walls

Gently creep.

I can’t put pen to paper

About how lost I am again

My soul screams internally,

“There is nothing to be ashamed about!”

But now that rational is drowned

With the cacophony of the blamers again.

I can’t put pen to paper

The torment I feel

In some of the moments I am living

Feeling selfish in wanting to be truly freed

Finding death the only real beginning

To the remedy to all things

That have stolen my sanity.

©AyalaStull