Even though trauma has a way of becoming the wallpaper of my head,watch me drag the art out of my suffering.Watch me plant seeds down my spineand bloom into a garden of poetryfrom every horrible thing that has ever happened to me, all the nights my voiceturned to cement and I couldn't say anything-Watch me build an empire from the ashesof everything that tried to destroy me.
-Blythe Baird
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