why i must write...

Because words once spoken
can never be revoked...
I try not to cut, bruise or harm...
all the scars betray my inefficacy.
To wound is not my prerogative,
try, as I might, to heal...
I must not give what I cannot take,
I cannot give what I must not take.
Are all equals equal?
Are all deals fair?
I have been as fair as I have been unfair...
is that a fair and equal deal?

What then, of all these words,
hypothetical bodies for fleeting emotions...
'joy' is a label on an endomorphin,
'sorrow' is a pit in my gut...
What when they fill the racks in my mind
that are sentences, expressions, emotions?
Too much data in too little space,
too much rawness in a limited place...
They overflow...with or without my consent...
revelling in, and rebuking with, their nakedness.
They tumble and roll off my tongue,
closely followed by incoherent apologies...

Thrills, chills, cheers, tears, fears...
train of thought running amok.
Derailed, deranged, dismayed, depraved,
hurtling towards Pandemonium.
Macabre mind, factory of fury,
sadistically sneering as conscience cringes...
It asks...demands, "Isnt this my right?
To vent, rage, storm and fight!
Is not my voice my weapon of war,
my mind the maker of all ordnance?"

Therefore, the part which asks, "Why must i write?"
...is exactly, why i must write.
I must write all that i see
but all that i write, they must not see.
The less said, the less heard...
the less spoken, the less hurt.
Laid bare for a moment,
then completely concealed...
the words still flow,
but my lips are sealed.