There’s beauty in solitude and an unexpected peace within the grip of chaos. My entire life has been centered in creativity. From the first time I broke lead onto the pulp of trees, I had an innate urge to express myself. Looking at the bare, cracked walls of my parent’s dining room, i see remnants of my childhood hung sporadically. Poems, primarily haikus, are scribbled onto different colors of cardboard paper, laminated to preserve my words, like the gaudy furniture at your grandparents house covered in the thickest possible plastic.