I write

I write every day for ten minutes. In my dreams.
I write my dreams
I write because I cannot speak my heart.
I write words and phrases and sentences that sometimes say nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.

I write to cry. I write to laugh. I write even when it’s wrong.
I write stories of lives real and imagined and half remembered.
I write so that I can remember.
So that others will know who I am.
I will know who I am.

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