i write
from pain.
i create
from my fears.
words can show
how quickly
joy can come
and disappear.
my creations
are brainchildren
fighting to be free.
i write
with blood-red ink.
ideas bleed like threads
from the wound in my brain,
i weave a tapestry so intricate
you couldn't look at clothing the same.
i write from ignorance and inconstancy.
i write to make a point
i write to have a voice
i write because i can
i write because i know how
i write,
to escape,
to my own realm of dreams.
