This Pen In My Hand

This pen in my hand,
Is the passageway to my soul,
I write without end,

As the days grow cold,
I'm writing this for myself,
nobody would consider reading it,
Even if it were for someone else,

This hand that holds this pen,

Yearns for a blade,
I will
punish myself for the sin,
That you think I made,
I never knew the sin
of love,
Until you put me down,
I tried to rise above,
I tried to
stand my ground,

Drowning in tears,
I'm locked within myself,

Nothing but fears,

Are you proud of yourself?

The End

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