I write because I have to.
I write because I need to.
I write because I want to.

I write because I have to,
Because everyone wants me to,
It's the right thing to do.
I'm young and I don't understand:
Why do I have to trace the letters in the manuscript,
Struggle with the pencil in my hand?
For what?
The answer: to form the words they want me to.
I write because I have to.

I write because I need to.
How else could I communicate when speaking won't suffice?
When I need to send an email or a letter,
And speak without really speaking?
When I want to build worlds in silence,
And watch them crumble apart as I
Crumple the paper in my hand?
I write because I need to.

I write because I want to.
It is the only way I can truly be myself,
Away from the noise of the spoken tongue.
I let out that caged bird inside of me,
Set it free with each word,
Each time my pen touches paper.
Only here can I say the unspoken,
Only here can I voice my true thoughts, feelings, actions,
Away from the incriminating eye of society.
I write because I want to.
It's the only place I truly understand myself.