Pen and paper, how I’ve neglected you

A materialized entryway into my subconscious and internal complications 

Some part of me feels that utilizing you makes all of it real, the rawness of my confusion and turmoil transpires in front of me when I pick you up

Once the pen reaches my fingertips, I am no longer able to shield my devices; the confessions spill profusely, and I am forced to confront all that I run from 

How far can I get without coming back to you?

How long can I trudge through this muddied mess of sludge? Pooling sorrow, and mountains of baggage lie ahead, yet I continue on

Until my toes cramp, every time I fall and my kneecaps leak red, I remind myself of the horrors that await behind me. Turning around and facing the truth would invite pain far more insufferable than the ache in my legs and the pit of despair in my gut. 

Somewhere along this journey, I am finally defeated. My determination and drive is dismantled by the elements, and my body gives up on itself. It is then that I am forced to crawl back to you, my hands and knees rough against the barren ground I just conquered. The physical pain became bearable after the first few trips, my skin calloused over, and the numbness became something of a comfort. However, the emotional weight never diminishes. The shame and utter disgust at my own lack of discipline remains stagnant as I crawl, and crawl, and crawl. Eventually, I make my way back here, to you, and the nightmarish convictions I once fled stand in a single file line in front of me. They wait patiently for me to address them, and I do, one by one. It is here that I lose touch with my own awareness, and I spiral within the depths of my own worst experiences. I gaze perceptively at these mishaps, and I resist making any sudden movements or allowing my body to evoke an emotional reaction. By doing this, I am able to maintain a minuscule illusion of control. I say illusion because in my alert state, I know that the turbulence and psychological vastness of these memories could easily engulf my entire being if they so desired. This, however, would be counterproductive, seeing as I would never be forced to embrace their presence ever again.