Within is the laundry list of a poor unfortunate soul a hungry flirtatious sweet tooth.She is Icarus without Apollo.Reborn from ashes hoping to turn the residual melancholy into a spectacle.She writes of heartache and loneliness joy and comfort how art shapes her world.She writes with a burning writhing need to understand her humanity.She writes about everyone she's ever met and the people she never will.Within is a love letter to herself and to all the ones who can't use their words.Within is a promise to keep loving all the beautiful disgusting amazing horrendous parts of herself.She writes alone in the a.m hoping her words scream loud enough before her coffee goes cold.