Why should I write?
Why should my thoughts see the light?
What's so important for the graphite
to be arranged on the cellulose
in this way and not another?
Why should I care and bother?
Is it the ego? Do I feel alone?
Do I feel the need to bring
attention to my own?
Why can't the electrical pulses
in my brain just stay inside
this cranium cave?
Is it fear of death? Is it pain?
What is there to gain when the information
will inevitably fade away?
Another night and I cannot sleep,
I wonder when this will stop happening to me.