Writing is what I call my escape from this world. Sometimes it gets so cold, I must find shelter and warmth. I must find a way to protect myself from this world. Every time I think I have found a way of protecting myself the cold finds it’s way in, into my heart. This cold can make you so bitter, so regretful, so non forgiving, so unloving, and so hateful it hurts down to your soul. I have seen the true damage of this cold. My only escape from this cold are the letters I put down, the words that become of them, and the stories and poems that derive from them.Inside my writings, stories, and poems is the only place I feel safe. The only place I feel warm. The only place I can be whoever I want whenever I want, the only place I can truly express myself, the only place where the cold can’t get in. It’s what I call my escape.
All rights reserved. No part of the following writings may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means – without the prior written permission of the writer.
I the writer give permission for anyone to share/ post on social media as long as proper credit is given to writer.