The pain flowing out from my broken heart fills the pen with which I write.
I hold the pen to page and let the rhythm of that pain guide my hand.
It glides over the pages of its own accord, it seems.
Hungry to express itself, yet hesitant to write the words.
They cause only more pain…
The smudges that compromise the words are from falling tears, mixing with the fresh ink on the pages.
As long as the pain still gnaws at my soul, my pen will be full.
The words finally stop flowing onto the page.
Emptiness now fills the void in my heart.
The pain has finished flowing through my pen.
And, finally, as I sit and look at what I have written,
my heart gives a final surging shudder of pain…
Its tremendous intensity forcing the pen to tear a long jagged path through the paper.
I can no longer read the words that were written there…
Ah well, perhaps it is just as well.
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Submission Name: Pen of Pain
