"You, my dear, have the soul of a writer." I cringed before glancing at him with a scowl. "You mean the soul of a poet?" "No. God, no. You're the furthest thing from a poet. Whereas a poem has the capability of designing a truth endowed with ribbons of milk and honey, you scream that same truth in its barest, most genuine form. You make a reader face what's real with gruesome and pungent honesty. While a poet can expertly stretch an ugly reality into a beautiful yet soulless faux pas, you shine a light into the underbelly that no one wants to see. That, my sweet angel, is truly a remarkable talent."
14 parts