I write to live and I live to live

Look at yourself, so weak so tired. Just a 15 year old scared of what surrounds her. She hears the prayer that floats around her, but is now long gone beneath the shadows. She closes her eyes and sees pictures of comfort while the thunder outside succums within her mind. 

I open my eyes. I was there all along but I was drifted away by the dream of once finding peace, a word that I could not comprehend for a while. The dream is gone and I am sobbing, tears of fright as I find myself next to my little brother. He is so small, but I can't let him see how scared I felt. I am the one that holds him there while thunder and explosion go off within the streets of my small town in Mexico. 

I feel that fright, everytime I close my eyes and go back to where I once was. I feel that fright as people tell me that I will not make it in life. I am not weak but they say I am, the world is just filled with people like that. But then again not everyone is bad. I have lived to live, and I have left the fright that once pushed me down and kept me under the light.

I write to live and I live to live. It keeps hopes up and makes me see that I have so much to give, for when I speak nothing comes out, but when I write I feel alive. I write so that others see that I have something within, its just hard to let it out. 

Now I live to see the day when I can go back to where I once belonged, to that small town were my hopes where torn, and the fright introduced itself into my life. To that small town that will one day see me standing tall and breathing life as I live to live and hope to never fall again into the fright.