Save Myself

by Sasa Aakil

I’d like to say that when I’m writing I write to save my people. My friends, my loved ones, the world. But if I’m being honest, most days, I’m writing to save myself. Some days that means saving the world too. Using my words to express my desire to uplift and expand all people. Other days it means writing out fun words in no particular order, just to see them on the page. A useless exercise in which I find pleasure. Most days, I write to make myself feel strong. And sometimes that means poems about resilience, black lives and justice, but at the core my motive is always selfish. I write to make myself believe and if it helps others too I take the credit as if it were on purpose. I save my own spirit with each syllable and smile when they save yours by extension. This may make me a fraud or an accidental saint. I write to fulfill that itch in my finger tips, when they ache for pen and page, screen and keyboard. I write for no reason except that I like it and it has given me strength. I write to save myself. This may make me a selfish poet. Or maybe a ink stained philosopher, who knows that her story, though extraordinary, is not unique. And writing to save herself also means saving those like her. Just by doing what she loves.