If I wrote a book.
Would you read it?
If I told my story.
Would you take your time with it?
If I filled it with my thoughts.
Would you pass it by?

Would I be just a memory?
A chapter in your book
You no longer relate to?
Would I be the one you think of
When it’s late and you can’t sleep?

My pages are filled with my energy.
Painful words that eclipsed my soul.
I’m a prisoner within my own musings.
Locked in a trance, without grace.
My demons became my friends.
They held me close when no one would.
My tears landed, only when they weren’t around.
The soil faultered beneath my feet.
As my heart stood it’s ground. . . 
I defied death. I cursed his name outloud.
They said I survived.
But my mind Disagrees