I knew Not

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I knew not of writing

But I knew of my heart


I knew not of words

Capable of expressing my broken parts


I knew not the power of paper and pen

But they became essential for my escape


I knew not of writing

And the journey it would present


I knew not of those

Who lurked within my subconscious


I knew not of what I would give life

Though they broke free effortlessly


I knew not of writing

And the way it would come so easily


I knew not the art

But every word flowed like the sea


I knew not of breaking free

Yet here I am baring all for everyone to read


I knew not of writing

And how eventually it would save me



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