When I write I imagine myself laying on bed with an IV in my arm and the blood flowing out of me. I tell myself that one day my words will save someone. My pain will heal someone. My fears will quiet a terrified soul. And as I type, the words are stored up in a bag, collected, cooled, and shipped off to a blood bank where it will one day be sued to give another soul life.
One day my words will be collected in a manuscript, bound up in a book, and stored in a shelf on a store or in a library until the right time comes when that book is selected from the shelves and my blood is poured into the willing reader in order to give them life.