Why do I write? Why do I indulge in the depths of art?

What tragedy led me to turn my words into creations? 

I smile, because they don't know the tears I cried when noone was there for me. 

They don't know the moments when I wanted to cease to exist but I continued with a smile. 

They don't know the pain I hid behind all put together exterior. 

They don't do what a curse it is to have a heart that feels too much, that cares too much, that holds on a little too long. 

They don't know what it means to have the fear of losing someone, the fear of being too much or being left alone even when you gave your all. 

But my words do, they are the morsels of my soul that I bleed on paper when the world gets too heavy, they are my redemption.

The one that I seek to breathe existence into my mortality. 

The querencia that gives me the strength to live.

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