I used to think that you could measure a person’s… by how many and how much people loved them. I don’t know when
I have so many scars. So many. Too many to count. And all I can think is, “How can someone love me,
elegant but chaotic, burdened with the weight of destruction, but stronger because of it. bright, beautiful, with so many shining colors all entangling in a perfect, mesmerizing patter...
Lately, I’ve started to realize that even my blood runs.
When I look toward the future, honestly, I see hardships and pain and uncertainty.
You don’t love me, but that’s okay, I understand. It only makes sense. Someone like you, so beautiful,
I often find what is said to be di… rather interesting, and what is said to be interesting rather disturbing.
I could write a poem about every square inch of your skin. I could write a poem about every breath
It’s amazing how empty a hand can feel after holding someone else’s. But after holding your hand,
For me, love has always been a heavy, and an urgent thing. It’s always hit me fast and hard,
All my life, I’ve felt like my hands have been empty and searching.
Once I asked a past love “Why is it that the ones I love a… and instead of feeding me all the typical
I am determined to be a woman that wakes up every morning with the fire in her eyes
Tonight, I feel as if there is an ocean right beneath my skin. Ebbing, flowing,
It’s the night before Christmas E… Tomorrow morning I’ll be surround… and laughter and warmth. But right now, tonight,