I write for the strong days; I write for the weak
I write for the words that tangle up my tongue when I speak
I write out of anger, and I write out of joy
I write to make the pen and the paper my toy
I write to forget, yet I write to express
I write to lift the sinking weights in my chest
I write for the words inside, dying to be screamed out aloud-
Though a pen to paper can make barely a sound...
I write so I don't end up picking up the phone
Because if I said what I thought, I'd end up alone
I write to slow down a world that is running too fast,
And I write to blot out the pain of the past
I write for the solace only words can provide
I write to placate all my demons dancing inside
I write to remember- life's a beautiful thing!
Despite the despair and the darkness that it tends to bring
I write for the days when my heart is so sore,
From my love being chewed up and spit out on the floor
I write as testament to the ideas littered in crumpled up piles
I write for a lost love that couldn't transcend 8,000 miles
I write to heal all these scars, and arrest all their bleeding
I write to keep all these broken hearts beating.
I write to shatter the glass and stretch my wings out from my cage;
I write even when my tears smear the ink on the page
I write when I can't escape my shadows of doubt
I write when even the embers of hope smolder out
I write to crawl, then to walk, then to run, then to fly...
I write for my baby niece, Annalease, who now lives in the sky
I write for creation, to grow, to become, and to be
I write for the yearn throbbing all throughout me
I write for the essence, my being, my whole
I write because writing lives on in my soul.