Numerous times have I penned
Flowing words beyond the page
Never knowing how to end
Literature's river of rage

Pouring my soul into the ink
Bleeding my fragile heart dry
For such a troubled mind to think
On such emotions I rely

Yet again I yearn for release
As my words ebb and flow
Shall this torment ever cease
My final work I choose to show

Each emotion a painful blow
As paper and ink begin to meld
Seconds closer to letting go
Of this crutch unto which I've held

Every painful memory I recall
Adding fuel to the flame
Placing my back against the wall
As I prefer to drown in my shame

Mercifully this river has run dry
As these final words trickle through
With nary a tear left to cry
Nor another morning to start anew