The Pen’s Release

I hold the weight of silent grief

a turmoil inside, too loud to speak

but just strong enough to whisper the words I’m too afraid to scream.

The ink becomes the bridge between the chaos of thoughts

and the ecstasy of expressing.

It understands.

Each word becomes a gentle truth,

each sentence an inhale, an exhale.

The paper listens, soft and kind

and frees the chaos in my mind.

A companion in my solitude,

a refuge for my aching heart.