I write because
What I feel is too
Overwhelming
To say out loud.

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You were kind to me.
You've been a lesson.
Now I need to learn another.

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The scariest nightmare
Is the Reality.

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I lost my comfort when I lost my art,
I lost my art, when I opened my eyes to the reality.

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I read in the books
About the lives of the great,
I listened to the stories
About the journey of the brave,
I wove my dreams night and day,
To be the brave, to be the great,
Here I stand where the journies end,
Have I been unafraid?
Has my life been great?

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I think and I write,
Then I think of writing.
Edit. Scrape. And Discard.
Of all the truth I know,
And what's left is the fiction.— % &

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"I hear you", they said.
"But do you understand me?"

"It doesn't matter", they said.
"It does to me"

"I hear you"

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I don't know where I belong,
Only where I don't belong -
Inside the box.

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I always tried staying one step ahead from my foe,
My foe tried staying two steps ahead of me,
But Life was always a million steps ahead of both of us,
And we didn't get to live it at all.

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I have fought many battles,
Trying to find who I am fighting for,
Was it the history, is it the present,
Or am I a fool, fighting for a future,
I may never know?
Am I fighting for myself, or is it someone else's war?
Am I the queen, the pawn, or the brave soldier?
Who am I and what am I fighting for?

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