when i was younger
i used to write at night
it was the time of day
that words seemed to flow endlessly
proof of such occurrences sit on my bookshelf
old journals filled with thoughts, rambled and eloquent
even today
i still write
when i feel lost
when i feel hopeless
angry
isolated
i reach for my journal
and lose myself in the words
said journal is not locked.
i have no concerns.
i write in "code" if you will.
i am so consumed in my ways
that the words i write are a given for myself
a lost cause for the outsider.
and i like it that way.
what an enchanted story.
it waits to be told.
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