Why do I write?
I write because if I said all the things that came to my head
I’d have a personal corner in the principal’s office.
I write because apparently it’s frowned upon to call people
Arrogantselfpityingbastardswhoonlycareaboutthemselves,
Even if that’s what they are.

I write because sometimes my ideas only make sense on paper.
I write because the blank page doesn't judge me.
I don’t have to compete with anyone, I don’t have to live up to expectations,
I don’t have to make anyone else happy.

I write because I can escape.
I write because that’s when
I’m brave enough to tell off anyone who
Has ever treated me like crap.

I write because sometimes it’s all I have.
The page just takes the abuse, my abuse.
The abuse I've gotten from everyone else.
It hits the page and I decimate a perfectly good
Piece of paper with all the crap I started to believe
About myself. And when I’m done shoveling out the abuse
The page sits.
It is no whiter, cleaner, different than it was before.
The page endures, and in its endurance, it holds the words
That make it something beautiful.

And that is how I want to view myself.
Battered, Abused, but a masterpiece
In my own write.