Because you wrote stories before you knew how to protect yourself. Because stiff peaks form faster than baking a poem. Because daily residue becomes a sticky muse. Because you blend the genre of reality with dreams. Because tender and cruel are siblings. Because you create out of nothing. Because you solve puzzles by mixing pieces. Because speaking to silence is not for lambs. Because the unmarked page is an imposter. Because a pen is the goat of your heart. Because there are stories your parents never told. Because you must bear witness. Because you live for surprise endings. Because you cannot stop poking the bruise of your soul.