The Universe is a poem…

“Why do you write so much, love?” he asked me.
Why do I write?
When I think about you, babe, my head goes crazy with the thoughts.
I wonder how to stop myself from going insane. The answer is I can’t. I can’t stop myself from going insane.
That’s why I write. I write so much because I can’t stop thoughts. I write and write and write because the only way I can live the next moment is by writing.
Not because I like to.
Not because I want to.
But because I need to.
I need to write to stop myself from getting killed.
I need to write to survive.
I need to write to breathe.
Breathe from the thoughts of you that might kill me.
“I like writing,” is my not – so – honest answer to him.
Gracias.
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