The translucent words I write

dance across the page.

As my heart pours out jumbled words

my head seems to get it straight.

Logically clustering emotions

into lines that reflect my wounds

My hurt. My fear.

It makes it all a little easier-

Writing.

Finding a way to make it look pretty on paper

is almost as good as it being pretty in real life.

Although writing is more like a pig with lipstick or

an ugly wound dressed with a flowery band aid.

Writing help though. Sometimes.