Why I Write

I write
Despite what they tell me and
I'm almost sure
Jotting down words on a pad of
Seemingly useless paper
With a seemingly useless pen
Is
My only escape now
Really,
These items put together
Can bring me anywhere that my heart
Truly desires to go to
Which isn't far from home
But
Far enough to be independent
And away from everything
That is causing my pen
To flow and dry uncontrollably
Sometimes
These seemingly useless items
Save me from dying inside
They calm me
Like a white serene candle
I NEED to write
To fight
And to breathe.