Why do I write?

"Why do I write?", I ask myself.

I write because the monsters seem to run away when I do.

I write because the words are a bandage when my heart bleeds.

I write because the colors mix together like skittles instead of fading away like they do when I don't acknowledge that they are there.

I write because I don't feel invisible when I do.

I write because I might (might) just connect with someone else when the words on this page are read.

I write because writing can change the world and it can change me.

It has changed me.

For better or for worse;

I write.

Do you?

Why do you?