why do i write? well,
i've been silenced...
i've been cut off in every conversation,
i've been told to shut up,
i've been controlled in relationships,
no more...
paper and pen can't silence me,
you are forced to read every letter, space, and special character,
that I, the writer, scribble down.
you hear every thought i have, at the mercy
of my good graces,
to let you take off your muddy shoes,
and soaked coats,
at the foyer of my mind.
to rest your weary feet.
for i am the creator of this reality,
for i have power over the pen,
for no one,
not even the angels in heaven,
raised their index finger,
to the brim of their lips,
and told god:
"shh..."
for it is that moment,
where you can be afraid.
- kyia
