I thought I knew
He said it was too boring for him.
So I didn’t write for a period of time
Maybe that's where I lost a piece of myself

Then I had a cause
That cause became even more ill
My cause was slowly dying
Now, so was I

I had to keep searching for someone to write for.
I looked in dark and unfamiliar places
Getting myself hurt and traumatized in the process.
I had given up
I was done writing

Until one day
I bumped into a new “who”
What made him my favorite was that within him
He had so many other things I could write for

He kept me writing
Made me stronger
Wiser
A better writer

Some of the things I write for hurt me
Maybe that's why I write about them
Maybe i’m writing for healing
Or maybe i’m still just as lost as I was
That would mean i’m writing to find something
Possibly myself?