To Write (Titled by my five-year-old daughter)

To write, or
Not to write?
This is the question,
Always.

To write is to
Sit and breathe,
Long enough to fill the self with
All the longing a
Heart can muster before
It rips itself into all the
Pieces of life that will
Fall down on paper–
Words,
Teardrops,
Blood.

To write is to become
One’s truest self, or to
Become entirely other,
Until the otherness is
Etched into the self
Until there’s no longer a
Self to speak of,
Now that it mirrors a
Thousand lives and truths.

To write is to
Take a vow that the
Suffering of which you tell
Must be made known, and that the
Promises you speak–that
All pain is each of ours, and that
Each longing belongs to us all, that
Beauty exists, and that
It matters how we live–
Are nothing but the truth.

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