I could tell you lies 

I could tell you truth 

I could explain the demise of my past

but that would'nt make sense to you 

or i could scream through my demeanor all my hurt and that i'm bruised

or try to hide ugly truths that have come to consume 

and it still wouldnt make sense to you 

and so i write

 not to sympathize with what I'm feeling

not to dive into my sorrow by attempting to emphasize what I'm feeling 

i write because sometimes the pain is so binding that i cant communicated because i feel caged by  the things that  have come to consume me

so I write to be free 

and let my words paint the pictures from within that i have failed to reveal throught other means of communication

I write because my paper understands where i'm coming from and listens when noone else would 

and with my pen i can dream

with my pen I can scream my pain 

yell of my happiness and write through the stress and the strain 

I write because i have a past that has left scars and my paper was the only thing to catch the tears