The space on the page

The space is a friend.
I tell it what hurts.

I tell it why I'm not good.
The space is a friend.
I tell it the bother I'm in.
It won't let me tell lies.

The space looks at me.
It never says I'm bad.
It never says I'm good.
It never asks me the kinds of question
I don't know the answer to.

The space never shames me.
The space never laughs at me.

When there is something in my head
making me sad or wild,
the space takes it.

The space takes it
till it's a space no more,
till it's full of what I wanted to say,
till it's it full of what I didn't know
I wanted to say.

Then it's there in front of me
talking of how I am
so the bother or the sadness or the wildness
can be quiet for a while.

Tell me that's not a friend?
I don't think so.

That's a friend.

From Michael Rosen's Big Book of Bad Things. 

• thinking about writing. 
• answering the question: Is the space on the page a friend to you?