Some people write to understand

Others do it for empowerment just to take a stand .

But why do I?

See I write to also understand

To understand who I am

Revealing parts of me I never knew existed.

Watching my heart and feelings pour out on to blank sheets of paper

Drowning it in Ink.

Rather the paper then me tainting my soul

Drowning it with the wrong spirit drink

You know the one that will have asking can I screw you

 Instead of screaming hallelujah.

There is no wonder to why I write

As a witness of domestic violence.

Visual repression

Becomes an unobstructed space for depression

Words however satiate that hunger

The hunger for revenge and anger

Strangely somehow I figured out there are greater things in life.

Which causes me to write

Poetry became me

My anger, My hurt, my feelings, my soul, my voice, and My Prayer

There is no reason to ask why I write

Without any artistic drawing skills

This is the only way I can paint my own portrait

One that’s much deeper than a reflected image of the man in the mirror.

Cause a perfect picture is full of many lies.

Covering every inch of pain and scares that is tattooed on the insides

Writing revels every lie my smile has told.

Poetry is the only way I can listen to my soul…

And maintain complete control.