I drive fast. I write fast.

Before I could remeber, I was writing my mind. 

When when my mama died on Christmas Eve, 

I picked up a pencil and cried. Gifted wrapped notebook 

and fountain pens, card said "Baby, leave nothing behind." 

So I just write. 

Before I was fifteen I tried to kill myself, but I didn't know why. 

Sad and scared, I lost control of my mind. 

I swallowed pills and just cried. Pen and scratch paper near me, 

as lay there heartbeating slow but fast, "I left nothing behind." 

So I just write. 

Before I was seventeen I lost my viginity, I had made up my mind. 

Fast and nervous, in the back of 4 wheel suburban. 

Thrusting hard and unapologetically, fog on the windows shined. 

Eating the pain, I subtley cried .With my finger I wrote in the glass,

"Maybe I left my heart behind." 

So I just write. 

I write fast, I write hard I write till my pencil breaks. It helps ease my mind.

I drive ninety nine or drink till my conciousness fades,

Writing saves me from dangers that are myself, 

and that is why I write. 

I write full pages of nonesense and beauitul stories that never happened. 

I write about my mothers necklace and her scent, of a much simplier time.

So I just write.