The screen lies in front of me,
My hands moving on my keyboard like a sculptor shaping clay
Every word, every sentence, every paragraph
Coming together to form a hauntingly beautiful concept – my mind

Solitude with my thoughts is a hellish ordeal
The vivid imagery formed in my mind’s eye
Overwhelms me to my very core
Intensely driving a desire to scratch my own skin off

But solace finds me as the tumultuous thoughts that once disturbed my peace
Flow seamlessly from my head to my fingertips
Powerful and relentless, like the cascading waterfalls at Niagara

I am the omniscient narrator in this story
Unveiling the innermost thoughts and feelings of the characters
Presenting them from an illusorily objective point of view
As if they do not reflect my personal life

In describing my own emotions, I become more attuned to them
No longer can my mind wander endlessly from scenario to scenario
Every nuance, every minute detail
Fully encapsulated in this thrilling tale

With the words laid bare in front of me,
I can now confront them, understand them, accept them, heal from them
This is why I profess with conviction:
Writing is my therapy.

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