It would be a lie to say that I have been writing for longer than I can remember. In fact, I remember the exact time that writing became an escape from the reality I felt stuck in: the divorce of my parents. Knitting pieces of letters together to create a word in order to create a sentence was like looking at a map- it was something I could rely on to help me navigate the mountains and valleys of my parent’s divorce. You could imagine what I wrote at just seven-years-old: tales about my best-friend and I exploring Neverland, my beloved stuffed-animal going on adventures to wondrous, whimsical worlds, and, of course, a reality where maybe, just maybe, my parents would glue their relationship back together to the way it was. But unlike Peter Pan, I had to grow up and allow the separation of my parents to settle into a new truth. Nonetheless, I continued to write merely because it was something that came easy to me; it was just like riding a bike- once I got going, it was hard to stop. As I got older, however, it was less about rainbows and unicorns and more about aspirations and fears, excitement and worry thus leading me to poetry.