I spill my anger inside these words while the greatness lies within the verbs. Adversity keeps the pen moving along the margins. Visions of reality disease my brain all to often. Ironic how my escape from the world is writing about the evils of the universe. A god in my purest form but cursed since birth. Hoping that these words one day will change the world but that just seems unrealistic. But still I write believing Still I Rise. “Will these words ever open eyes?” I feel hopeless so I grab the pen and proceed to write. Telling my truth keeps me leveled headed and helps me dodge sleepless nights. Writing away depression is the greatest blessing. More writing, more words, no more pain, no more stressing. The ultimate therapy releasing pieces of me while searching to be free.