practical poetry: an expose on my need for expression

 often the world feels like the ocean, and i always find myself clawing for the surface. my family are all in their own world, my friends don't need another person to worry about, so i find myself writing until the night is gone and im alone in the dark. anonymity is a beautiful thing, it hides the fact that i am who i am, and allows for me to speak without fear of recognition for my words. 

i call this practical poetry, a title i gave to a series of notes i wrote when i was 16 years old. a series of poems, if you will, that were my inner-most thoughts on paper. few people ever read my poetry, i made sure of that, but now i find myself longing for a place to release my thoughts again. so my practical poetry is revived, brought back from the dead to resume its beautiful purpose of coping. 

life isn't always kind to those who were born with old souls, so we write blogs no one will see, in hours of the morning that few remember, to find something to do with their minds when the darkness becomes a canvas for those haunting thoughts to paint spirals on. either way. here i am. and here are my thoughts.