I Write As a Form of Therapy
If ink was tears of blood
I’d write in beautiful despair
Words to hone a tragedy
Of days adrift on unfamiliar tides
The night hums its ritual tunes
Of things forlorn and hearts once torn
Learning to live
Learning to thrive
To embrace this disgrace
And self loathe no more
I’d write in beautiful despair
Words to hone a tragedy
Of days adrift on unfamiliar tides
The night hums its ritual tunes
Of things forlorn and hearts once torn
Learning to live
Learning to thrive
To embrace this disgrace
And self loathe no more