May 13
aegent's picture

Why Do I Write?

I write because nothing can make it stop
I write because I feel
When I want to feel nothing
When I want blissful numbness
When the world weighs on me
When I am desperate
Desperate for a reprieve
Desperate to be out of this head
This head
This head that won’t stop thinking
And mulling
And hoping 
And waiting to be disappointed
This head that is lost
That has no idea what to do
This head that is swimming in a sea of acid
That wants to shrivel up
This head that is stuck in the desert
That is begging for a drink of water
This head
This head
That I cannot escape from
But that I can write down
That I can try to make sense of
That is why I write
To slow the rush of thoughts
To untangle this mess of live wires
Even when it shocks my fingers
Even when the pain makes tears slip down my cheeks
It’s better
It’s better than being trapped
It’s better than when the words scream blood curdling screams
It’s better than when they pound on the inside of my skull
It’s better than when they run round and round in my head
Desperate for release
Desperate to be let out of this cage

I write because all these stories want out of this cage
These stories
That swirl around my head
Like dust in a tornado
I write because I see faces in tree branches
Because I cannot turn off these stories
Swarming my head like bees
Stinging my mind
I write because it feels right
I write because it is the only thing
That forces me to face it
To face everything that rushes and screams and pounds and runs and swirls and swarms
Me
And I fear what will happen if I stop
I fear all those things that rush and scream and pound and run and swirl and swarm
I write because I cannot let them ravage my mind
I write because right now
Right now everything is coming at me
In the middle of this hurricane of my brain
And I don’t know how to stop it
But these words are my claws
And I am ripping and biting and trying to find my way out of this hurricane
Out

I write because I am on the outside
I write because I observe
And never join
I write because this
This
This is how I connect
That is why I want to be a great writer
This is what is going on in my head
This is how I experience the world
These words are like a window into my soul
This is how I share
Share in a world I have never felt like I was apart of

I write because I am apart of my family
I write because I cannot tell my sister I love her
I cannot hug her without shrinking away
Shrinking away and hating myself for it
I write because I have a scar
A scar on my arm from when my sister tried to hug me
Tried to hug me and I fell while shrinking away
Hit my arm on a drawer and cut it
I write because I cannot tell her I love her in any other way

I write because I love it
I write because it is the one thing that has always been there
That has protected me
And saved me more times than I care to admit
I write because this is the one thing I have always come back to
I write because during Thanksgiving I would write stories
I write because during overnight camp I would write until the words were blurry
I write because I have wasted too much time following a dream that did not belong to me
I write because no one in my family can see this part of me

I write because this paper
These words
They are my home
I write because I always said I wanted to go home
When I was home
When I was afraid, these words were my lighthouse

And I am afraid
Afraid that these words will have no impact
Afraid that this is an unattainable dream
Afraid that I was never talented

And these are truths that belong to me
But this 
Right now
These words
Are the only way I am capable of sharing them
And so I push past those fears
And write
Clinging onto that hope that someone
Anyone
Feels the way I feel
Clinging onto that hope
That maybe someone is just a little bit like me