If I ever stopped writing

I would slowly wither away

My mind and body would disintegrate

For every minute I stayed stagnant

These lines etched deep into my skin

This ink might as well be my blood

I need this like the air I breathe

These scribbles are my life line

From the stories that I dream

To the poems that pour out of me

I'm never going to stop

This is the only way I set myself free