Writing is my love.
Writing is my defense mechanism.
The negativity that society breeds, bleeds from my pen, and my soul it seems.
Lord, I know I can rid myself from any pain.
I let my words fall like tears on my journal’s terrain.
Why do I write? For my words they cannot take!
I am the composer. I am the one that creates.
I am a small lady, my physical strength may be meek.
I draw sustenance from my words.
Yes, they encourage me.
Writing is the air in my lungs, without my love I will surely suffocate.
I write to cry. I write to cleanse. I write to smile.
I write to survive.