My Fear Of Anger Taught

What I Most Regretted Were My Silences. Of What Had I Ever Been Afraid?

. . . It Is Through Poetry That We Give Name To Those Ideas Which Are-until The Poem-nameless And Formless, About To Be Birthed, But Already Felt.

I Am A Bleak Heroism Of Words That Refuse To Be Buried Alive With The Liars.

I Am Still Learning - How To Take Joy In All The People I Am, How To Use All My Selves In The Service Of What I Believe, How To Accept When I Fail And Rejoice When I Succeed.

We Are Powerful Because We Have Survived