Not Like Riding A Bike Poem by Athena King

It has been what feels like a lifetime since I have written.
The words that come out of me are harsh and painful
and clumsy and freeing
It is hard and bloody and horrible.
It feels like I am digging shining pieces of stained glass from out of my flesh with my pen.
The pain is beautiful in a way that makes me cry and dig
harderdeeperfaster
I want (Need)it out. and so,
I force it out in painful gorgeous tugs that rend and mend me in equal parts.