© Nicki Faulk / Www.Nitallica.Org


Pen strokes running cross the paper, emotion pouring out like a fountain.  Though the tears are not shown in ink, they stream down in a fearless fury onto a face forever broken and dimmed.  The haunting past -- the ever so uninvited guest of mine, forcing me to remember that which scars me.  But I'll fear not that which had made me fled before.