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Sometimes, often

I wonder what to write

These words inside me

Urging to let it out

Yet at the touch of the tip

In a scratch of paper

I paused; What do i write?

It isn't as simple as shouting out loud

I kept thinking

Until it became minutes, days,

weeks, or even months

It keeps me going

It brings a chill down my spine

Sometimes, often

I wonder what do they think

How they'll react

It's so confusing

Leaving a hot trail of mess

I wonder when

They'll tell me then

If it is okay to continue,

Or wrong to stop?

Sometimes, often

I want it to deepen

The story and I

It's connection to mine

I hesitate and am scared

Yet I try to be brave

That's why I tell my self

'It's okay, continue', I said

I keep my gears on

A million of words down

On a paper skin,

An ink of blood,

My soul has whispered,

I wrote it down.

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A/n:

Why do you write?