Writing gives a voice to the words I’m afraid to speak. Sitting at my keyboard, I press out the wrinkles of confusion.
It is a vulnerable response to the interpretation of my world and those living in it. On one hand it is extremely risky. On the other, deeply satisfying.
Words tumble out…and down the page, head over foot. Thoughts scattered like a game of pick up sticks. They are looking for the softest place to land and are restless until it is found.
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