It glares back
shouts, "Tell me
what's on your mind!"
I mouth the words, "I can't"
As the pen slips from my grasp
Jumbled thoughtsPound against my skull
Looking for an exit
They're giving me a headache
With their endless screams
"Let us out!"
I whisper, "Why can't you understand
the pain you'll cause?"
Stacks of old notebooksBegin to "thump, thump, thump"
On my bookshelf
Demanding to be heard
Their pages rustling
with the truth
As a can of pens
tumble to the floor
The pens roll towards my feetAll I can hear is a hum
As they begin to add their two cents
To this maddening protest
"Spill our ink onto your canvas!
Paint a world beautifully bleak
and let this cacophony come to an end!"
Their cries grow louderThis symphony is deafening
I close my eyes, muttering
The word stop until I'm yelling
A sudden silence envelops meWarm and inviting like a
Blanket on a cold winter night
Only one thought is clear:
I'm content living in
--Sandra S., 19