2013 why i write

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When the truth convulses your systolic rhythm. Stay in your body and wait frantically for the echoes in your voice box. Let them move you then listen for a song,
There is a reason. There has to be a reason as t why poetry exist. As to why poetry can wrap around like a blanket. As to why poetry can unchain my frozen heart. There is a reason for everything. I have learned it.
Behind her tears There is anger and sorrow.Behind her fake smilethere is lies and fear. She seems to be all alone,No group to accept her.Everyday she sits alone,No one there to talk to.
Can I even be considered a poet? I write. I write to get a message across that needs to be heard I write to change the way people think I write to make people think I write to make myself think
Weave me through words to be heard. Break my heart as my fingers feel out the words. Cradle my trust with an untitled promise. Let me fulfill these things through writing poetry, or let me be done.
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