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.

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