by Clara Maney, Freelance Writer
I used to write for therapy
because the words in my head weighed me down,
and I needed to let them out.
I used to write for clarity,
when my heart and brain were in battle
and I couldn’t pick a winner.
Then, I began writing for art
because I loved the way my words
would drop from the depths of my soul
and bleed onto the pages of my notebook.
But now, I write because my body bleeds
instead of my words
onto bed sheets and not paper.
Now I write because I’m trying to reclaim the words I used to be so proud of
the same words you didn’t care about
when I meant them most.
I’m writing now because I’m scared I’ll stop believing that my words matter
after you pushed them, along with your fingers,
down my throat,
stopping the smallest word
with the biggest meaning:
“No”.