Why I Write.

I write because words are alive to me. They give shape to the world and to life. They are strong and weak, soft and hard. Words are like dancing, but still. Like singing, but quiet. When I have nothing else open to me, I still have words. Even when I can’t write, I can compose in my head.

I do it all the time, but I’d rather write them down. Somehow, when the words come out onto the blank page it makes them real. It gives them power. Words are power. When I write, I have power. Power to influence others and myself. When I am only a storm of emotion inside, writing brings quiet, peace, understanding.

There are things I want to tell the world that are so close to my heart, I can’t speak them out loud. My voice doesn’t do justice. It quivers with fear of rejection and fear that I won’t be able to convey how very important these things are. But when I write, you can’t hear the quiver, only the power of the words. When I write, I am brave. I am my truest self on paper because bravery is required to reveal so much.



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