Notepad

 

This notepad to which I write,

the one that listens every night.

Hears every guttural sigh,

every muttered cry,

every low. every high.

It doesn't try to provide solutions.

Just pays heed to my mental pollution.

 

This paper palace

provides no solace,

doesn't give me answers.

Not a shelter to hide in,

doesn't have meanings provided.

But when I'm floundering

and my mood is sliding closer to the ground,

it gives me a place to write it all down

 

The paper world is the only one that knows

my every thought, every undercurrent

as my mind river flows.

Surging with hurt and decay,

rushing downhill,

this mental sluiceway.

It floods all that get in its way,

staining the paper with words I need to say.

 

The safe that keeps my truths within,

holds them in worn paper skin.

I keep it locked away from eyes

that may read and try to summarise

my every moment of despair.

It hears me when I need to air.

When words don't come with ease,

it has a million thoughts stored in there.

 

Thanks for reading

Peace, Love and Poetry

Kyle