I am complicated.
There is more to me than people realize.
I have feelings.
Do they know how much I care? Do they know how much it hurts?
I am angry.
Fuck everything and everyone.
I am happy.
I love everything and everyone.
I am a woman.
There is strength and desire and wisdom beneath these long black lashes.
I am a dreamer.
There is no place I do not wish to go, nothing I do not wish to be.
I am a writer.
I need a place to call my own when I’m complicated, when my feelings overwhelm me, when I’m angry or happy, when I feel things a man will never understand, and when I dream.
This is why I write.
I am human.