When I’m heartbroken, I start to write,
Not for the world, just to feel right.
I don’t plan it, don’t make it neat,
Just pour out thoughts I can’t repeat.

Journals, blogs, and poems too,
A place to hold what I’ve been through.
If I don’t let it find its way,
The weight gets heavier every day.

Some lines make sense, some just bleed,
But writing gives me what I need.
A quiet space, a softer tone,
To speak the things I feel alone.

It doesn’t fix the pain I know,
But gives it somewhere else to go.
And sometimes that’s the only way
To make it through another day.