My Broken Pen

My Broken Pen

I need this space,

I need a space that’s all my own.

A space that is filled with silence.

Where I don’t have pretend to know peace,

A place where I can just be absent from these thoughts

Clear out the clutter that has camouflaged itself as memories

Discounted me from this work of fiction, that I’ve become desperately devoted to

Before the damage begins to settle in and suffocate me

I need to journey to a space that will allow me to close the door on the chaos, chaos that has slowly climbed on top of me, pinned me in this compromising position and took away my lucidity and stole my appetite to write 

 For just a moment I would like to be excused to an abode where I can disengage from all this agony

Where I can be surrounded by light, stillness, the kind of stillness that greets you when you first step out into the winter morning air

I need this whirlwind that I’m currently caught up in to not just drop me in pieces

But settle me down somewhere gently, where I can briefly retire my worries

Sit down my sorrows, my regrets

I need this space,

I need a space that’s unoccupied by another

A space that is all my own,

Where I don’t have to, get to know its peace,

A space where I can be withdrawn

Yet feel safe enough to rest my tired eyes

A place where I can be vulnerable, to bare my mood 

Where I can leave all these scatterings.

So I need to go.

Flee, somewhere, anywhere

That is going to allow me to

Sit down my sorrows, my regrets.

A place that’s going to allow to empty my collection of anguish, where I can attempt, to repair My Broken Pen.