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.
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.