We are like stained glass windows; Beaten and broken, in order to be pieced back together,
You don’t love me, but that’s okay, I understand. It only makes sense. Someone like you, so beautiful,
I bet you’ll never know the sound that skin makes as you rip it apart, or the peace of mind that
When I look toward the future, honestly, I see hardships and pain and uncertainty.
Being a poet is not simply being g… It is much more than that. Writing poetry is something that y… A poet is something that you are. We see the world not as a bunch of…
While riding in the car and listening to music that didn’t understand me, I noticed that there were no stars, and I don’t know what that means, but I think it means something. We pull...
I have so many scars. So many. Too many to count. And all I can think is, “How can someone love me,
You want me, you’ve made that very clear. But that’s not enough for me. I don’t want lust, I want love. Do you love me?
I could write a poem about every square inch of your skin. I could write a poem about every breath
I find it funny that even though I’ve never slept next to you, I still feel the empty spaces where you’re supposed to fit.
Once I asked a past love “Why is it that the ones I love a… and instead of feeding me all the typical
1) From the very first second I saw you, you have been the only one I want. Thoughts of anybody else vanished and have not returned. From the very first day, you have been the first and...
For me, love has always been a heavy, and an urgent thing. It’s always hit me fast and hard,
Scars, scars, scars. Scars on my arms. Scars on my legs. Scars on my stomach. Scars on my mind.
I wonder what would happen if we just let go. If we let this love
