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.