How I Let Go

How I Let Go

In the quiet where my heart’s whispers roar,
I spill onto paper what I can’t ignore.
Each word, a droplet in a vast, unseen sea,
capturing the essence of the love and ache in me.

“Anguish” is more than a word, it’s the night’s cold grip,
“Loneliness,” the distance of each unshared trip.
The “void” isn’t empty, it’s filled with echoes of you,
“Love” is the color of every hue we once knew.

I describe not just feelings, but the world they create,
the sharpness of absence, the heavy weight of fate.
The way grief can color every familiar street gray,
how memories of laughter don’t easily fade away.

This pen becomes a conduit, a channel, a stream,
where pain and beauty converge, a shared dream.
Pouring out the heartwrenching, the tender, the raw,
finding in the act of writing, a new law.

Here, in the dance of ink and unspoken words,
I find release, a freedom like the flight of birds.
It’s not just about naming or describing the feel,
but making the intangible intensely real.

I pour out my soul, in vulnerability and power,
creating from love and pain, a blooming flower.
Each word a petal, each sentence a vine,
in the garden of paper, my heart’s design.

This is how I let go, how I begin to heal,
by giving my wounds a voice, a chance to reveal.
Through the raw and vulnerable act of poetic creation,
I find solace, understanding, and a form of liberation.