I do not bleed anymore…
My voice does not sing along with Billie Holiday in the shower. It does not paint the bathroom ceiling in the delicious murder of high notes. I do not repeatedly talk myself along city sidewalks as if words hold the ability to propel my body faster. I do not read unbelievable pieces of literature, each line 3 or 4 times, terrified everyone gets it but me. I do not then make reference to how the story captured me ,how it has forever influenced my further artistic movements. I am not the white woman of your loose tongue – the impersonal, … Continue reading I do not bleed anymore…