The satisfaction of control.
The direct cause and effect of pressing pen to paper.
The pride in my achievements.
The responsibility for my mistakes.
I breathe the weight of it all.

Problems are just things that need solving.
The future is called anxiety.
The past is called regret.
The present can be shaped by my hands.
by my words.
by my actions.

It controls me.

Anchors me to my handcrafted reality.
Imprisons me within my own artisanship.
The captive pen makes meaningless stains.
Wet lines soaked up by the pulp of dead cells.

That's why
I must learn to relinquish it all.
The weight, the responsibility, the pride, the control.
The pen in my hand.
And the one of my heart.
So I can fly and chase yours
Or learn to be happy
watching you fly
without me.