To keep on going, I must write on the page.
I’ve abused my communication guideline and
for this I must pay. So, I suffer inside and it feels so
intense that the only release is on the page-
as I bleed words into the virtualsphere. Where they
go, I cannot know, I can only hope i am not a fool in the end.
What it is like to be an artist is to feel like a balloon inside, so
pregnant and full, is always on alert and prepared to go into labor
at any moment.
What it is like to be crying for salvation is a child
trying to crawl back into the mother’s womb instead
of feel the life stripped away before our very existences.
What it is like to be a woman is the constant urge to create.