People find comfort in exerting emotion
Whichever way possible it just feels good
They scream, or cry, or punch and hit
But me? I write.
I write till my hands cramps up
And once I’m done the page is either filled with poetry or chicken scratch one can barely read
But the content isn’t what matters
It is what it does for you
You feel better that you’ve communicated emotion and that is what is wonderful
When you write there is no judgment
It is you and the words on your paper
No one there to question your emotion
No need to justify it
You express it. It’s there. That’s it.
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