Writing

Writing, my dear, is a labor of pain, A journey through darkness, a constant strain. It's a battle with demons that never cease, And a struggle to find the slightest peace.

Every word I put on the page, Feels like a cut that never heals with age. The ink that flows from my pen, Is like a wound that never ends.

For every sentence, every phrase, Is a piece of my soul, exposed in ways. That leaves me raw and vulnerable, And feeling like I'm never in control.

The words I write, they haunt me so, A burden I can never let go. They weigh me down with every line, And make me feel like I'm not fine.

But still, I write, despite the pain, For in the darkness, there's a gain. For every wound, every scar, Is a story that's come so far.

So though writing may be a labor of pain, It's a journey worth taking again and again. For through the pain and the struggle I face, I find my voice, my truth, my place.