For Us

I write to refute the impossible. 

Because although my words do not have the power to suck alcohol from pure veins, reunite estranged lovers, or bring the dead back to life, 

my words have the power to bring the living back to life. 

I write for every thought that has ever crossed your mind that you cannot explain, every emotion that has touched your heart that you cannot identify, and every moment you've experienced that has slipped away with each passing day. 

The moments when everything is illuminated and you think to yourself, "if only this could last forever."

Well it can. 

I write for the "no"s, the "not good enough"s, and the "I don't understand you"s. 

I write for my demons, and I write for yours. 

Because if writing is a disease, I will happily bleed out for you. 

And if writing is a curse, I will happily suffer for you. 

I write for the world inside of you, scratching at your glass bottomed coffin, begging to be heard. 

You do not need a therapist or an exorcist. 

You need to be understood. 

You need someone to grab your face in their hands and bring you into them until your noses touch and you can feel their breath whisper "you are okay."

I write to refute the impossible. 

Because a passing stranger with kind brown eyes once told me, 

what they say isn't true. 

Some things really do last forever. 

I am one of those things.