No friends, no family, no air.
Just my paper and pen.
All I need.
God in me.

The words flow like pouring out water.
The lines of the letters all making straight sense.
Rhymes? Maybe.
Answers? Maybe.
Questions? From me to you.

Its always there.
Never not understanding.
The feelings and thoughts all in black on white.
Instead of jumbled over the space of brain and heart.
The pen gently kisses the script.

The meaning and passion given to me burn through the words.
The window into my soul has no blinds.
There is no door.
No one may enter.
Unless you can find the Window.
Then I will let you see.

Love scares me.
Hope is my lifeboat.
Trust is a magician, that always seems to disappear.
Faith. Unseen.
The window of writing shows me these things clearer than me.

Can you see it?