Writing in the Dark

I kept writing with the well-rehearsed hand

Knowing how much space to leave.

But when I lifted my hand 

To remove strands of hair from my face

I knew not where to put my pen

Like when you join a school 

In the middle of the year.

I learnt to use my left hand to fix my hair

And escape the discomfort

Of feeling lost. 

Emotions began flowing out,

I began pouring them carelessly.

Not realising that there was a width

That was stagnant 

And I had reached the edge.

It took the darkness to open my eyes

To the limits of the page.

And then I wrote and I wrote 

In the middle of the pages

Racing with my thoughts.

In the dark.