I stare at the keys, taunting me
illuminating blue light, dark thoughts
it’s crazy how these feelings do.
Raw, unfiltered, unmasked
letting it all go in heavy, little presses.
Where to start, how to continue?
Ten thousand more hours I need,
to make little pieces that count.
Trying times, jaded mind,
the white canvas, blank lines
my bunker underneath this mess.
A scream of plea, a cry for help,
created a world to keep me safe.