Words have saved me.
When you write without being a writer.
Words saved me.
They saved me from myself and protected me from others.
They came back, they do so at times, rarely. They come in pangs of guilt, stabs of excitment, twinges of conscience, and regrets.
When reality doesn't resemble one's fiction.
Blessed and cursed with the power of observation. Wordaholic. Inquisitive. Old soul.
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