Ink For A Weary Soul

By Aivery Schellenberg

Every line created through my hurt,

Every verse sung to dull my mind.

To pretend that I’m alright.

Every book, 

Every page,

 dedicated to my weary soul.

Every empty note, 

Every letter,

That read ‘to my dearest’ I wrote

Reaching for a hand

That had long let go.

Cut down and broken, 

The air caught in my lungs.

Step by step

I walk barefoot

Over burning coals.

Every word I write

Impure but just,

Every scratch of the pen

Relives my mind.

Every line made for light.

Every verse sung to heal my heart

To know that I’m not okay.

Every book,

Every page

Living proof that I survived.

Every empty note,

Every letter

That read ‘to my dearest’ I wrote

Showing me the way out.

Breath by breath

I understand.

And I hold together in my hand 

Every word that was never said. 

By Aivery Schellenberg