My name is Alika, what I write is usually something just brewing inside me. It is usually something you wont get unless you ask, 'hmm who is she and what happened to make her picture life this way'. Know me as a writer, someone who has lived many lifetimes in the past eighteen years, and will only tell you the truth as she knows it. For everyone's truths are very different.
The lightning erupts blue streaks across the basement floor.
The colors of day disappear as the flowering blue bruise rises on my cheek.
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