Why I write

Artist cannot be tamed

Nor may they be contained

When no door was opening

When sight was not possible

I sat with my pencil

And I wrote

What I felt

What I saw

What I cried

What my heart spoke

When my heart broke

When death entered my life for the very first time

I picked up pen and paper and I wrote

I wrote how it didn’t seem fair for God to take away the glue that

Held my family together

Forever.

When my He decided to call my granddaddy home

I decided to write

And write

And fight

The hurt with my pencil

Speak the words unsaid

The tears that stained my pillow that lay on my bed

That I was unable to sleep in because I didn’t understand

My grandfather was a great man…

So…when I had nothing to say

When everyone I could possibly turn to for strength

Was suddenly in unbearable pain

I had nothing left to do

I had to write to you

I had to tell you what was going on or I was going to lose it

The hardest thing in my life to do

Is to write to you

My diary is my poetry

The direct entrance to my heart and my mind...

All in the same breath and all at the same time

The LAST thing I wanted to do

Was write to you

I don’t want to be weak

I don’t need you knowing MY hurt and my PAIN

But I had to release

Or I may have lost all sanity

It’s not what I wanted to do

I had to

Write to you

-Damica