What killed me the most Is what saved you the most. Now tell me— Who am I? And who are you?

“That which journeys from my eyes to my glasses becomes a novel.”

“I steal emotions from life each day, to write the novel of my journey.”

Tears, a subset of life. Fears, a superset of life.

“In the crowded city of emotions, I meet myself in silence.”

Dreams are not wanderers, they are citizens of the capital Eye, building streets of vision and palaces of hope.

Half, I bake. Last, I slake. Middle, I live— the rest, I survive.

“Plant me your questions, I’ll harvest successful tries.”

“What you do is poetry in work, And what you essay is poetry for life.”