I do not write to escape.

I write to expose.

Mine is a world draped in shadow.

So, too, is your own.

Once, I was silenced.
So, I gave that silence a sword.

And her name is Tinker Bell.

This is no mere fantasy.

This is a reckoning.

For every honeyed lie.

Each stolen memory reworked to serve another’s narrative.

For all the times my light was dimmed to gild someone else’s ego.

For every hand that reached out, only to pull me under.

My pen is my blade.

My ink is my battlefield.

My stories are war.

Let the tyrants fall.