How much of writing is re-writing? How much of living is re-living? I sip my coffee. I remember the voice inside of me croaking out; she’s hoarse; she’s deep; she’s poised. I remember shouting for someone to love me. Men. All of them. Love me. I remember this voice changing. Going dark for boys… Continue reading Your Writing Voice
You sift through one called “Future” and find a thousand other eyes shaped and colored like Miranda’s.