Shy2Infinity

What’s the point

If my pen bleeds red,

Or black or blue.

If the clattering of my keys

Take on a dishonest chord

Or break and shatter as I type.

If my hope seems so frail,

That I drown in the deep, dark sea.


What’s the point

If all the words freeze on the tip of my tongue

And stories fall just short of their mark.

If my fingers shake and jitter so much

It’s all I can do to hold them still

And they feel alien to me.

If the world feels so cold

That the brightest fire feels like ice.


What’s the point

If I have to beg 

And scream

Just to make my desire heard?

If I have to cry

And show you my weakest

Just to get what I want?


I don’t like to beg.

I don’t want to scream.

I hate to cry.

And I know you’ve got things on your mind;

But I’m not strong enough to be my best self.

If all the thoughts in my head

Were to leak out one day,

What would you say?


What’s the point

Of a pen that bleeds red?