Why I Write?

I write because I can’t deal with life in any other way. I write because I can’t keep secrets – because kissing and telling is only acceptable if you know how to turn it into a nice poem.

I write because the written word is the only place where I make sense. It’s the only place where people want to know more of my thoughts. I write because it’s the only time I’m not asked to shut up.

I write because even though my words often fall on deaf ears, the eyes that read them are never blind.

I write because my mind is a whirlwind of loosely connected sentiments but my pen is the god that makes them coherent.

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