Someone asked me what I do well, I didn't know and couldn't tell Never really thought about that, I had always worn the same hat Decided I should go find out, who I am, what am I about? Set out on a journey to see, my aspirations, my realities, Found out I liked to write, couldn't turn it off at night Pen to paper opened in me, a hidden talent, an ability Bought a journal & set down, it became therapeutic, I found Couldn't get words out fast enough, I felt self-conscious opening up Now keeping it in hurts me more, so many stories behind these doors Now it's second nature to me to be starting journal twenty-three Feels so good, just to breathe, to get all of this out of me
Writing is everything to me, it is my outlet. I used to repress everything. Even these poems have only recently been seen by anyone.