There are people talking in my head.
I cannot sleep- lying awake in bed.
I write their conversations down.
I write their views down.
I write to make their world go round.
A tear falls beside my ink, 
I'm too tired to think
So I just keep writing.
I write so children can feel less alone.
I write so I can make this world my own.
I write about love, lust and crime.
Of gaining trust and killing time. Suddenly I can see
That I'm free to be me.
Free to share my imperfections.
My disgusting thoughts, 
My misperceptions.
Writing makes me feel as if I have something to tell the world.
I want to create one less silent girl. 
I write to give myself a voice.
But really, 
I am who I am 
And I guess I have no other choice.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem