Why I Write.

I write for me.
For all the the times I want to
Scream, cry and wail,
I grab a piece of paper
And fill it with tears of ink.

I write for me.
For all the times I feel empty inside
And I become hollow.
I grab a piece of paper
And bleed on it.

I write for you.
To show you that you’re not
Alone in this world,
That’s trying to make you become
Everything, but who you really are.
To show you
that someone feels your pain
Faces the same trouble as you
And that there’s always an outstretched
Hand to hold on to.

I write for you.
To show you that this too,
Like everything else, shall pass.
To help you understand that
Anger at what you can’t change
Won’t help you.

I write for us.
For all the times, we sit on
The bathroom floor, head cupped
In between both palms,
As a tiny stream of eye water
Rolls to the floor.

I write for us.
For all the times we get tired
and we can’t move anymore.
To help us remember that like
Beautiful flowers, we will survive
The cold winter,
And rise again.

We will get up,
Put our broken pieces back together.
We will trudge on
And one day,
We will bloom.
You and I.

I write for me.
I write for you.
I write for us.