"An artist I am not, a genius I will never be. I will never write a masterpiece, my works will not outlive me. I am not scholarly, or even smart, technical, perfectly syntactical or easily digestible. I will not become the next Great Poet. I do not write to do that.
I do not write to fall into the good graces of humanity.
I do not write to be revered or praised.
I write to make sense of myself, to reconcile with my fractured existence, to accept the ones I share my mind with; I write to open myself up to them, to stop hiding away from them. They all have their stories to tell, their barriers to collapse in time; mine are merely the hands that string their ideas together, the lungs through which their opinions pass, the host head that urges them to make their voices heard. The writing is a vehicle, not for fame or love or endless glory. It is a conduit for selfish understanding, a path to find alliance and inner harmony. The poetry forces me to see everything, and reminds me that it's all real.
I do not write to gain attention, I grew up learning not to need it; it is time to give the attention that I should've recieved as a child to all the different fragments of me that now exist because of that negligence.
I write because we will all die if I don't. But we are not writers, we are not artists. We are a broken, bloodied body, crawling on our knees through fire and glass, and each word written down is a step further out, away from the flame and shattered sharpness and pain, out of toxic cul-de-sacs and into safety for the very first time; until then pen and paper are my only respite from a heavy, sorrowful life.