midnightrose Midnight-Rose Brown

Why I write. Sorry I've been inactive. And also don't copy this I have a copyright with all rights reserved on this so don't even think about it.


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Why I Write

As I get ready put my pen to the paper,

I stare at the blank canvas in front of me.

It does not yet have a meaning.

A fresh start, untouched by the tainted tip of my pen.

My polluted words have yet to touch the clean world that is the blank sheet.

With my thoughts collected,

I write a word.

Ink bleeds through, permanently damaging the pristine facade.

And another follows it.

And another.

They continue down the page.

Down

Down

Down

Down

Down

I let the words flow out of me,

My pain transferring from my head to my unsteady hand and soon

I finish.

Then a shadow emerges, darkening the surface.

I read my work.

An ink blot drips down onto the paper.

No.

A tear, smudging the undried ink.

Everything has been released.

The pain is gone.

Relief washes over me,

I am swept away in its warmth.


This is why I write.

Aug. 4, 2020, 6:15 p.m. 0 Report Embed Follow story
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The End

Meet the author

Midnight-Rose Brown Never underestimate the power of pen and paper.

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