Écrire est être
For anyone who cares: Sometimes, I get the overpowering urge to go back and read all of my poems on here, and then all of the reviews I've received for them, and it's like a mini-biography, a little look into my own life, four or five or six years ago. I can't believe my first poem on here is from eighth grade, and that now I'm almost done with my freshman year in college. How times flies... But it's comforting, to start way back in eighth grade, when I knew nothing of words and everything of emotion, and then my most recent poems, where my emotions have simply become words, and realize that I'm still growing, still getting better, and that maybe someday, my words could make a difference. Here's to dreams, my fellow writers.
Felicia, dearest: Still thinking of you, even when I'm too drained of words to write out an email.