The power of my book

For so long I've told myself that I'm not going to write in this book anymore,

But then I pick it up and continue to write again.

This book is magnetically sealed and only the touch of my pen can open it,My pen fills its blank pages with inflicting and self -inflicting pain from wounds that remain unstiched.

I try to cover the tears I weep by writing within this book for comfort,

but somehow I feel like I'm being possessed by it but it cannot be so.

Day after day I find myself constantly writing I break into a cold sweat...and I realize that I am being possessed,

This book is a monster and its using me to its advantage.

I close my book and throw it against the wall and as I do the words from my past,present,and future that I've written over the years starts to bleed through the pages.


I'm scared,for I know whats in store ...the book must be destroyed,

I grab my pen from my pocket and use it as a sword, I raise it high above me and stab it to the floor.

the beast is gone my hands are covered with its ink and again I'm all alone unsafe and unsure inside of my own home.I think to myself,

"How could this be I don't have my book to comfort me,Hey! if I tell to you my pain...will you listen to me?"