When we write, what is our goal?
Is it simply a way to catalog the fragments of our soul?
A method to be heard?
Or none of these things at all?
I write for my friends
who are shut up by our society.
I write for my family
whose love knows no bounds.
I write for my enemies
who are as likely to tear me apart
as hungry street hounds
who have gone too many days without a meal.
These poems don't have to be spoken aloud.
The words spilling on this page may not be heard.
Is it enough that it only exists?
My Anger and my Love share the same format
and have the same probability to be heard.
As long as my feelings reach them,
my friends, my family, my enemies,
it is enough.