Why?

Questions address you 
As to Why?
Why do you write??
I attempt an answer 
And fall silent.
Is it that hard
To speak out what I can write?
It perhaps is -
Because when I write
I operate from a level beyond
My senses and sensory trails lead me to.
I write, as countless emotions
Cross my mind, like overlapped radio stations.
Things not meant for me
End up with a new destiny
Frothing out in my scribbles
Finding words to awkward silence.
I write because I purge
The pains that I push away
Denying them an existence.
I release little joys that hover around
Into words, and viola - they find a new lease of life
Preserved to be retraced, relived!
What a relief, a therapy this writing!
And then I write some more 
To tell stories that I would never live
In places I'd never be
Donning many bodies I'd never dwell in.

But the magic carpet of this imagination
Transforms. Launches,
Manifests a new reality.
I write to capture the tears that well up
Upon witnessing a sunset,
And seeing the humming bird vibrate around the vine outside my window.

I write to speak about how I miss, the people I miss
How I love the people I love.
How madly, deeply I feel
The feelings that elude expressions.
I write to record
How little, insignificant moments 
Add up to a life of meaning, of magic.
I write to crystallize tears into carefully carved art
I smear word salve
On the nips sustained
I heal, as I write -

I write because
I don't need a listener to my unspoken words.
It becomes a conversation with myself.
In a insane way, it preserves sanity.
Talk about poetic justice
And how it is served to me
While it is denied in a parallel world of speech and sly.

I write to rip my heart open
And empty its contents into unfiltered spaces
Sometimes I gasp
Cause I find that I tell this scroll
What I hadn't told myself.

And I am still asked why I write.
I do.
Because I breath.
And this writing renders a meaning into my breath.