The Inkvisible Friend

It engraved me like a second skin
and welcomed me like an invisible friend,
which let my thoughts and creativity run wild.
No chains to conform me 
no voices to limit my words, 
just unchained thoughts running free.
I was consoled by the ink
and letters arranged for me and only me,
as if assuring me of what's in my own DNA.
There may be chains on this world 
to limit those who conform to society's voices,
but there are no chains on my mind.
In the ink I refuse to suffocate
just to let them deprive me of my oxygen,
the unspoken rhythm continuously reviving me.
It is the unwritten words 
to my unspoken heart,
the art of my creatively vital soul. 
The beautiful terror in my heart
with the thought of conformity,
it pushes beyond barriers for me.
I breathe through blank pages
and see through solid black ink, 
just to speak unspoken words 
upon those blank white sheets.
My voice is loud 
within ink and on blank sheets,
but in reality I'm barely heard,
not even above a mouse's squeak.
Just a shy girl with no vocal cords
to even say hello,
but give her a pen and she'll never remain silent.