For me, when I think of what I feel is the greatest joy in writing, my answer would be that I find relief in writing every poem I have written in the past couple of years; this is a door I can open, shut everything and the room inside never gets full; it is infinite, as is its possibilities. Each line craves the opportunity to crack open and shed away its former self, for the chance to change its form and become something else, something as equally beautiful.

You've read my poetry, you've essentially read me, you've read about my history, you could essentially build a new 'me', if you wished so; as for me, the original, the public as my fans, shows me understanding that you now can see the feelings that I had back then, which used to burn inside of me.

My next book will be the man I am now, if I dared to try.

I spend my time volunteering; I volunteer for numerous organisations, assisting with various tasks, including marketing, stewarding and event management, alongside running my own event with a colleague as of 2014 in Manchester.

I do, I wrote a short little tale called The Hypnotism Begins based on a dream I once had.

I grew up in Oldham, in various parts of it in fact; where I grew up, in fact, in the time of when I was growing up, I feel that my experiences as I became a teenager, influenced my writings; I acknowledged how heightened my emotions were then and that painstakingly, it remains the same even now.

The answer is within itself - the day; it is a new day and so a fresh start.

I don't remember the exact first story I read, but I do remember that Aesop's Fables sat with me for many years - it's not a heavy read, given the ones I read were with intention for young readers. I do recall that now as an adult, that this is one of the few pieces of literature that have influenced me as a budding poetic writer.

My latest works are a series of poems, broken into stages, that describe my sentiments back as a young adult, when for me, writing was therapeutic and because of it, I am purely thankful to be here still writing today. As an autistic adult, dealing with emotions, poetry is one way I can channel this energy into a matter beyond its origin - to numb the pain cold with the icy needle of a pen marking its scratching against the surface of the page.

The process of writing never starts with me - I am involved in some way, I am hurt in some way and so, I need to find another way of healing the pain - standard anaesthetic does not make me forget each wound that opens with regret. I then come into play, where through me, the words assemble from the tears pouring down cheeks, blistering cold and leaving scars. These parts of a poem then form a series, of realisations, revelations and memories never to be spoken again - before they are then laid to rest with brothers in arms, at the grave of the publishing hand.