I am not sure why some people become writers, I just know that I can’t help becoming one of those people.
Avoiding
I go through great lengths to avoid getting to know you. Yet there you are, unequivocally yourself, and I keep choosing not to see you. Why? You ask. Fear, I respond. Fear that if I truly saw you, after all this time, I would hate what I see and hate myself for it.
Choice
It doesn’t matter who you choose As long as you choose them for them And allow them to choose you for you
Easy
I thought writing would be easy if I only found the time. Now with all the time in the world, writing feels like open heart surgery. Literally and figuratively.
The Dulus Nest 