“Why I Write”

Jade Moosman

Words fall short, but they are all we have to let the world know where we are, who we are, why we are, how we are when we are, what we are, though no one truly knows. In other words, solace can be found, and hope, fear, pain, love, and everything and nothing.

Why I write I don’t fully know after all I sometimes don’t even know why I breathe, why I think, what I think, or how. But each word comes from in me, a me that no one knows and the me I let show.

The words I write come from the everything and nothing I am, a universe inside another that doesn’t know who I am. They come from days behind me and ponder on the days ahead.

These letters on the page I dump out from orange bottles, and puzzle boxes. I put them together hoping for answers to questions I do and do not have.

I write because I’m full. Because I am empty. Because I’m not okay and I know that it’s okay. I write because existence is painful, it’s ridiculous and wonderful. I want to know what smiles hide and salty tears expose. There has got to be a story I can tell that no one has told before because no one has, is, or will be exactly like me.

I write because I have things to say that I don’t know how to say out loud. Because I dream too much when I am asleep and not enough while I’m awake. Because the world is not the way I wish it was and it never will be, but maybe something I write will stick with someone someday and in the mind of that person I will live until they die.

No one needs to know me after I have died. I just want people to know me for words I write that they have never thought of or couldn’t find the words to say.

And sometimes I write just because there are twisted stories in my head, and this is seen in these pages.