This is poem is not about me, to prevent any "oh poor you" stuff. It's not about anyone I know either; it's just a "what if".
I wrote it without rhyme in iambic form. If you find any rough spots or think this is too "emo", please tell me.
Writing in the Dark
There’s whispers in the dark,
a terror which haunts and gnaws her heart.
Her delicate fingers turn the page.
Another day, unseen, is done.
She clutches the notebook,
the paper onto which she bleeds the poison of her soul--
the taunts and all the tears. It's everything she fears.
These leaflets are her sanctuary,
the place where her voice is heard in ink and painful honesty.
She lacks the courage to confront her peers,
so she just drowns herself in words.
But, sitting in her room at night, she knows they aren’t enough.
The letters, black and red and blue, can offer solace, but,
the gash within her spirit, writing cannot mend.
