The same pen that I write these poems with,
Is the same pen that knows I smile through my lonely.
Cosigning these sentences that show me. 
A dichotomy of setbacks and growing. 
The duality of who I have been and where I’m going. 
This pen carries more weight than boeing. 
This pen’s ink is ever flowing. 
It knows my fears, my anger
It saw me at my highs and saved me from my lowly. 
This pen could settle a thrown sea.
Or exorcise all the demons exercising their mind controlling. 

It holds the key to my future* but also knows all the codes to the safes of past troubles I had stowed away. 
It brings my healing to the forefront and ensures my betterment occurs on the day to day.