The author who spoke too soon,
the writer who can't read her own handwriting
and the girl who doesn't always know what she's doing.
Quite simply, I am a writer whose inkwell has run dry
and I am desperately searching for an oasis with water
with which to mix and make my ink.
I'm 20, I'm Canadian and I have glasses.
My inspiration is like El Nino
you never know when or how.
I am a jambalaya of too much or too little,
a bevy of extremes one way or another.
I hope my words make you feel,
make little pictures in your head,
make you think
make you want to write.
And, if they didn't
I hope you enjoyed them anyway.
My dear,
I cannot hear you.
What you do speaks so loud that I cannot hear what you say.
So speak to me with your actions, not your words.
Speak to me with your doings, not your mouth.
Speak to me with your hands, not your voice.
For your actions drown out what you say
to the point that that’s all I hear.
