Just Maybe

Questioning me and my writing

I write,

I know I have to,

I have this overwhelming need to spill my word-vomit filled guts onto paper,

Yet it never becomes a chore,

A job,

This thing, the only interest of mine costing so little and so rewarding,

The only thing that keeps my terrible twos attention span glued,

Each page new,

Different,

Rantings, ideas, fears, loves shared with all who dare to venture into my twisted world of

Heartache, passion, regret, and realization.

Maybe I'm finally becoming who I've always wanted to be

Maybe its another mind game

Maybe this time I'm only playing myself

Just maybe