2016 Why I Write (Scholarship Slam)
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I was depressed at a young age,
Becoming a new person every day,
Never crying, emotions looking for a way out.
It came to me three quarters into sixth grade.
I paused from running away to stare at a golden page.
I was never good at speaking my feelings into the air for others to hear
but I could write it.
if you gave me a pen and paper I could make sense
of the hurricane in my head
as I bleed onto the paper
I writeBecause I mustBecause, sometimes, spoken worddoesn't express everything that needs to be said
Thoughts in my head
ebb and flow as do currents
Waves upon waves, wash ashore
but my mouth–it rarely opens
This pen and paper
Closed eyes
Darkness
They can see you
Look left!
They can hear you
Look right!
Nothing there
Cold breath crawls in your ear
Tunr Around!
Did you see that?
They heard you
