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?