This is why I write
I wasn't born to write,
It isn't my passion,
It isn't my calling.
I write because I need to live.
I write because of my fear.
I heave through my lungs,
Fighting a word on the page.
Typing, Clicking, Entering.
Sharpening, Writing, Erasing.
I write for my torture.
I write for my love.
I write for the hope of surviving through.
I write so the world knows that I have had hope and survived.
Survived abuse.
Survived drugs.
Survived homelessness.
Survived war, home not abroad.
Survived suicide. Myself, and I.
I hope.
I survive.
Then, and only then,
I write.