From a pen to a poem
I may not know how to write, but I do know I want to write. I want to write to be able to unload myself of all the stories I have been longing to tell you; to recreate to you the places that are best travelled alone. I want to write because I want to be heard. I want to write to be read; because, even as I ramble on my incongruous thoughts at length, you continue to read them. Because, it is the only way I know to reaching you, to laughing and crying with you and forgetting what lies in the interim. I want to write because there is no other way for me but to write. Because it is when I write, I know I exist; it is when I write I know why I exist.
“We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect”