What I have before me, here with these symbols, is an underrated power. They allow me to stitch my wounds and piece together my mind; extracting my soul into vision. Writing saved me; I would have killed myself otherwise. It was through pouring all that I am into words that I was able to see what I ran from; something they did not want me to know. Now, here I am - courageous enough to make a mess of myself in an already chaotic world, textualising these demons of mine to be read in the streets by anyone willing. And who knows, perhaps those who dare to read me will have something to tell; some words to share that prove I’m not alone with these thoughts.
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