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There's nothing in the world like it.

The hammering ache you feel as it unleashes your soul.

The way the words refuse to be uttered;

The way they need to be recorded.

Pen in hand pressed gently against paper

Of any kind, any you can get a hold of.

It's the only option to open your mind.

It's the lonesome path to your heart.

Oh! The sweet ability it possesses.

The joy it brings as you seclude yourself, just you and your mind.

The way you escape into worlds unknown.

The way nothing else matters.

Mind swirling with thoughts you don't understand

But write anyway because it feels right.

It's what makes you human.
It's makes you, it gives you life.

The argument of my life finally resolved.

It's what makes me feel.

It's what I live for.

It's being a writer.