Write.

From a babe to a child, to a girl, to a...

                                                               "Woman".

My hand wrote more than any other kind

But then, cocky girl pointed out in disgust,

                                                  "You write too much."

My innocence passed it over as a light scolding-my cheeks aflush

Every child knows this-the harshness of wrong doing

Then, my hand stopped moving

Writing only what was                        

                                                           "neccessary".

 

Middle school; where youth faded and feelings outruled you

Had a knack for words-didn't know it was called          

                                                                                          "poetry".

When I hurt-they roll off my tongue and slip into language on paper

Ink pen travels quickly on blank lined surface

Destroying perfect pale perfection

Strikethrough-I don't like that phrase

My situation was-

In a time of stolen kisses, unrequited love

Following depression and lies

My hand did harm to self body-pain was never enough

Couldn't fit in, never truly belonged

Acceptance in a world I wasn't meant for

 

Graduation-never said to them, my old friends; "Good bye, I'll see you soon!"

Seperation conlcluded that passageway

 

High school-enter my shy footsteps of a beginning 

New life born with a vengeance

Ached to become alive, like a tree in the sky

First weeks were tough, cried home almost every night

Making friends on my own was rough-a test I couldn't pass

Fell in love with a sweet drunken kid, high as f-

Transformed into the face of a monster

Then, he left-heart ripped apart, we fought

The end brought me closer to black death

...

Second semester, cut my hair and turned into a fairy

No longer cared-felt quite extraordinary

Met a woman with nature green eyes, heart of gold and warm touch

Became stranger, teacher, then mother-I, her daughter

She saw me write, as expected from her student

Then she read with a genuine smile and sparkling eyes

As she discovered my raw burning talent and said,

                                                                            "You touched my heart."

Smiling, I speechless, could only say,           

                                                                  "Thank you."

She made my day

Soon, she learned of my internal struggles

Confided in her, did I

She knew how to offer pieces of wisdom as she adviced,

                                                  

                                                          "Don't quit writing-it will take you places."   

 

My hand revived itself from sleep-began to move again, scribbling thoughts into poetry

And poetry into long detailed stories and original songs to sing

Taught me to breathe air as I experimented with emotions

Exploring new ideas-drama, voice and music

Leading to new friendships, gaining ultimate independence

Pathway of self acceptance and happiness

Allowed me to shine brighter than a goddess

 

Mother-

You're the Reason Why I...

Write.