Ink and Healing
When the world feels loud, unkind, and vast,
I spill my soul on pages fast.
Each word a whisper, soft yet true,
A bridge from chaos, guiding through.
My pen, a lantern in the night,
Illuminates the thoughts I fight.
Letters weave through pain and fear,
Turning silence into something clear.
Tears may stain the lines I trace,
Yet in the ink, I find embrace.
Every comma, pause, or rhyme,
Helps me heal with passing time.
No judgment here, just endless space,
To shape my scars with gentle grace.
Through every verse, I learn to see
That writing is my therapy.
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