Where The Words Go

Where I write on the paper is where the ink bleeds.

I write poems and stories,

The words pouring out of my brain into my arm and coming out of my pen.

The scrawling letters flash across the page,

Bringing joy and happiness but also sorrow and pain.

Where I will understand it one way,

But someone else understands it a different way.

And with the words swimming underneath my nose I will leave.

Leave everything behind to come back one day.

I open the door and step out of my life,

As I head of into the distance.

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