Since I was little I felt like a trash bag. My excessive empathy and sensitivity (PAS) made me live the emotions of others as if they were my own. I was loaded with all the guilts, fears, lies, sufferings of my abuser father...I grew up and was formed by them...I revealed myself to them... I talked about them and the family punished me...
It took me almost a lifetime to talk. I am like a trash bag that wants to release its cargo to be able to be, to fly ... I only have art… to be able to fly ... even if it is to fly in the same place ... art to transform trash into poetry...