Portfolio of Hope

a book of poetry on a wooden table

I write until my fingers bleed
onto tear-drop stained paper,

until the imprint of pen against flesh
leaves calluses on my hands.

An open wound laid bare to the world
I write to manage the pain.
Like a caged bird set free,
a lifeline.

I write until I feel something other than this-
something other than darkness,
something other than numbness,
a contradiction-

A feeling of nothing, intensely
that seeps into the deepest parts of me-

I write until I feel something
that resembles the

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