The Sunset

This is the first poem in my poetry anthology, The Sun Will Rise Again.

I was eight when it began.

I was left clinging to sunshine

As the sun descended below the horizon.

It all started as a blank page

Until slowly, painfully,

My heart began to bleed

A mess of jumbled-up sentences.

Words bled onto the paper

And I drowned in my own words.

But I never stopped writing.

It became the medicine I abused,

The drug I was addicted to.

I wrote myself into crises,

Forgetting the pain of the world.

The pain has always been there

Forever a reminder of the past.

I shove it into the back of my mind,

Yet the thought resurfaces as I put my pen to paper.

I drown in my own words,

Novels of my bleeding.

I bleed in writing,

Turning pain into poetry.

The sun set long ago

Yet I cling to sunshine

Writing pages upon pages

Of memories I’ll never forget

Searching for a lost light

I can reach for but never touch

When the sun set,

I wrote myself in and out of crises until the sun rose.

My name is Lucy _____,

And this is my story.