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…
I have so many scars. So many. Too many to count. And all I can think is, “How can someone love me,
Once I asked a past love “Why is it that the ones I love a… and instead of feeding me all the typical
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 thought I was finally over this… this feeling, this aching in my bones, calling out touch me, touch me, touch me
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.
I bet you’ll never know the sound that skin makes as you rip it apart, or the peace of mind that
You don’t love me, but that’s okay, I understand. It only makes sense. Someone like you, so beautiful,
I’ve been putting off writing abou… you for months now. I didn’t want to do it, because I felt that
I am determined to be a woman that wakes up every morning with the fire in her eyes
These scars won’t come off no matt… Unlike dirt or mud, that simply disappear with a bit o… this filth that covers my skin is… A kind that is not so easily remov…
I stayed in bed until 1:30 pm toda… because when my blanket is wrapped around me, it’s easier to pretend that you are, too.
I know that soon you’ll be far away, and you won’t be coming back for a long while. And I want you to know that I’ll miss you like crazy every day for 730 days, but I also want you to k...
We are like stained glass windows; Beaten and broken, in order to be pieced back together,
It would be my honor, to kiss those lips of yours though they’ve left many bruises. To hold those hands of yours,
