A writer describes her experience writing 

People who read what I write probably think that I’m dark. Sometimes I feel that way. But most of the time I enjoy thinking deeply, which can bring a person to dense topics. Dare I say that one must tear and rip apart until fingertips become dull to uncover understanding? Now, the reader asks, ‘why so graphic and clinical?’ Probably because I feel things physically what I think about mentally. I translate to the reader my own sensation being locked in a cage.

Well, there it is. Maybe I am all of those things I imagined people think of me. But maybe I’m none of those things and, on the contrary, I am excelling within this cage.
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“On paper everything leaves me.
Amidst the depth, the grotto uncovered, it is as if I’m basking in daylight.
Other pressing ideas beckon me
 to more unknown
A pensive gaze passes over me ‘what belongs beneath this grotto?’
I lean against a shovel anticipating sweat on my brow.”


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