I write for comfort, closure, exposure, to keep my composure less to impress, but to decompress when in distress. I write for insight and to enlighten. When I’m lost I write to find myself again in the midst of all the adversity. I write because it is my outlet, so I don’t corrupt and confine my mind to these four walls in my head it’s imprisonment. I must write. I write to keep from swallowing my tongue and choking on my own words. If I don’t write it eats me alive from the inside out. So I write. I write to be a part of something bigger than me and that’s CWP (CityWide Poets) I write to stay relevant. I write to tell a story. I write when I’m angry then I write in pencil so I can erase my regrets. I didn’t mean it, but I write in pen when confident versus incompetent and take risks. If home is where the heart is then I’m never homesick. I sleep with home right up under my pillow. Sleep deprived, I free write and rewrite and recite. My retractable is the trigger and my pen shoots ink bleeding through to the next page. It stains, impressed in my brain. I must write to keep sane. Mom said don’t write checks you can’t cash, well I’m willing to take that chance to pay my own way. I write to not be another statistic on society’s hit list, to write my own ticket and when I’m finished, I hope to have touched lives from a distance.