Who is it that I write for?
There's no pressure to impress
No needs that need met,
There's only myself.
My sanity laid bare,
My instability shining
The cross I bear held high
For all to see.
But I do not write for you.
I do not write to catch your eye
Or cross your gaze.
I'd rather some not read
My impoverished words at all.
This is personal.
My most private thoughts
I'm too afraid to speak,
But come alive as words in ink.
This is for me.
This is my mirror,
However distorted in may be.