I wrote you a poem, about why I'd write a poem for you. You caught me attempting to tame my mind with lines of rhyme, when I told you it was about a woman we knew you said, next time... why don't you write about me?
I said because you don't inspire me.
The easiest excuse for writers block... I need to be inspired. I need to be hotwired into a matrix of men and women who are driven by every feeling they are giving. I need rhythm and words. This pen is a decipherer and a page a treasure map where we will write our way to gold. We sold ourselves on the belief that we could... write smiles onto people...
So we write. Muster our might and write light into the dark times. Stitch beauty into the scars of the harmed, we arm ourselves to the teeth against those who act beneath what is considered humane. With ink in our veins we write like we fight. Unafraid of a broken bones because the next blow we throw will be through our throat. We are mouthy poets, and the most powerful weapon in arsenal is our battle cry. And should one of us die on the field we'll uproar, we'll outcry, we'll encore and we'll breathe life into what remains of our fallen and give them the best fucking send off ever.
And when we finally reach home after our time together ... We'll keep writing.
We'll write worlds out of words. Write instructions to the sky and orders to the ground will write love notes to sound and have this all down before the next sun swings around.
We write like skin grafts. We'll talk the hollow into wholesome etice oppressed into the inspired and paint the lonely as lovely. We fill in the gaps. We are the ifs the ands and the buts following the 1 word answers to the big questions.
Do you love me? What are you angry about? How do you feel?
We'd say, yes. If I was terminally ill and have the doctor prescribe me... You because you make me feel more alive than I've ever felt.
We'd say, everything. Sometimes I just feel trapped in my own skin like the society that we live in has made jail cells out of my skin cells.
We'd say... Good. I feel like his smile told me, he'd catch me if I should fall.
We write so we can say it all.
We write in passion, we write in love,
we write an apology, we write in admiration,
we write in a affection
We write in absolution as much as uncertainty
We write in purpose as much as apathy.
We don't write because we should. We write because we can and It's everything we are and everything I am.
This!.. Is why we write.