They said to write inspiration.
So I wrote until writing hurt. I wrote my story and my soul until there was only skin left to give.
So I gave it.
I wrote until my bones held my pencil and the only thing keeping me going was the next thought that needed to be written.
So I gritted my teeth and kept writing.
I kept writing while they chatted, while they talked, while they whispered. I wrote through the pain and the tears surrounding me, around me, needing me. I wrote while the world cried and the innocent died. I wrote while the world disappeared before my eyes.
Because writing is the only thing I know how to do and at least I can do that.
So I do that.