I write to breathe it’s the only way I exhale.
I write for the little girl silenced,
questions left unanswered.
I write to live
Lungs exposed heaving chest
bleeding ink turning
inside and out.
I write for a life line
a shared moment
to feel alive
know I am not alone,
I write as a sword against monsters
an exorcism of demons,
to turn nightmares into dreams.
Control my version of my own story
Writing freezes time, extends it.
Is my champion, caregiver, and deity.
I write for blind eyes, deaf ears.
To release burdens with the flip of a page,
rephrase the world in a way I can grasp.
I speak what I write because someone told me to shut up
and I never do what I’m told.
I write away stereotypes
take away shackles of submission
my voice belongs to me.
I am never afraid of what I write
I am terrified of what I don’t
I hid in notebooks gathering dust for too long
I write because this is not a choice for me.