A writer
bleeds words
even before she
knew the feeling
of feeling;
Choses to weep
even when she
has no reason
to do it;
Embraces everyone
even when she's wounded;
Smiles
even when screams of uncertainty
cloud her mind— resonating,
wanting to be heard,
screeching;
Loves
even when all she has
is nothing,
just words in pursuit
of unfurling,
echoes in need
of hearing;
And writes
even if
writing
does not exist
for her-
healing.