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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