The Why of Why I Write

 

I write because it is all I know

Like breathing, it comes naturally. 

I write to bandage bloody wounds

Like a surgeon, with deft hands I sew. 

I write to forget squandered love

Like any storyteller, I reinvent harsh truths.

I write to recall (to like) myself better

Like sobbing, I unleash a rainstorm to grow.

I write because it is all I hold 

Like the drowning man, I cling to words to float.

Simply put, I write because I have lost

And take my losing slow.  

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