I sit now with a pen in my hand,

a glass of water,
by my side,
not sure if my friends want me or not,
I write,

I write my life,
my pain,
my stress,
all down,
in hopes to find the truth,
about myself,
my friends,
and my family
I write,

I write,
Because I’m so confused,
I don’t know what’s going on,
but inside my head,
I’m fighting a battle,
A battle in which I could easily lose,
but I can’t,
I won’t let myself,
And so I write,

I write,
With my head down,
Ashamed of my true thoughts and feelings,
Afraid that if I share them,
I will make a gash,
In my innocence,
So I write,


I write,
And I keep writing,
But it doesn’t work,
I still don’t get to express,
How I truly feel,
I want to cuss,
But I can’t,
“You are  not allowed”
my parents tell me,
“B**** PLEASE!”
I scream,
Not to their face,
But inside my head,
Because I’m too scared,
That I’ll be taken out like trash,

I’ll write,
Though scared that if I do write,
I’ll be punished,
I’m daring enough to do so,
But I’ll need someone to rely on,
Just incase I get afraid,
But I’ll still write,

I’ll write,
Everything I want to say but can’t,
And because I’ll still be writing,
I’ll feel better,
because what I write is important,
and needs to be heard,
I Am An Author Because,
I Write The Truth.