Why I write

I don't know why I write.
I don't write for renown or recognition,
for people to marvel at my words (marvel indeed).
I scarcely write for myself.

Maybe I write because I've lost my voice.
It's been drowned in the tumultuous caverns of my soul,
I've forgotten its pitch and timbre as if it were never in my possession.
It remains unrecognizable and foreign to my being,
but I must salvage what is left
because I have so much yet to share!
Too many loves to be loved and purple skies to be seen,
too many beauties to be adored to be
without a pen to chronicle them!

I don't know why I write,

maybe I've found my voice.