Why I write..

I write poems

I write for the girl that locked herself in the empty closet

The girl that clenched her teeth with her hands forming muffs

Her ears had heard far too many things

The girl that fell asleep under her bed after that painful night,

The night when my mom finally decided to escape

I write poems

I write for the girl that didn’t meet her brother till she was eleven

Because Dad was a little too reckless back then

The girl that didn’t understand why everyone else knew their siblings

Or why we weren’t raised in the same house

The girl that was never fully comfortable around anyone.

I write poems

I write for the fourteen year old girl that was blessed with a grandfather

The grandfather that became her superhero on the dark, and cold nights

The one that saved her mother,

The one that was scattered across his favorite river,

The leaves were changing, and so was she.

I continue writing

I write for the girl that has only ever had paper as an escape

In a world that is as loud as my mind,

I continue writing--

I continue writing to escape the past

I continue writing to save myself,

I write because I need to show others, that they are not Alone.