why do you write?

Almost 20 years ago now, my therapist frowned at me and told me if i couldn't tell him, i needed to tell someone. So i started typing into the void. It helps. I've done so many things i can't tell anyone about without hurting them too. But if i create pretend people and make them walk the horrors i've lived then i can let other people look at that mess of them and not feel responsible. I'm broken. But i can still spell. It takes little moments from the locked cupboard in the back of my head and polishes turds until they are almost pretty and displays them like a cat displays dead mice.
 
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