Ode to My Pen and Paper

Pen and paper is my first language.

I can’t really tell you how to speak it. It is spoken in many dialects.

Each one unique to the soul of its maker.

Pen and paper is code.

It’s code only I can decipher

When my spoken words fail to comprehend.

There are no flaws in pen and paper.

Only thought.

Pen and paper is my voice in its raw form untouched by the ears and voice of the human tongue.

Pen and paper speak for me when my speech fails to do so.

Pen and paper listens to me when my speech falls on deaf ears.

Pen and paper doesn’t tell my secrets.

Pen and paper doesn’t judge my identity but amplifies it instead.

The pen drenches the paper with my stories untold and the paper soaks it up better than almost anyone I have ever known.

And when it is all said and done my paper talks back.

Especially as I grow and learn and I decide to look back.

To the untold stories of my storm within.

My pen and paper spoke for me when I physically couldn’t.