Select Page
now, we burn bright too.

now, we burn bright too.

we wrote letters to the sun, heartache and poetry filled with confessions, stories and reasons for why we felt too deeply and fell too quickly we were dragon hearts and dandelion fuzz, graceful power and a shimmer of softness all beautifully broken and bound within...
this love is more than hallmark cards.

this love is more than hallmark cards.

i don’t celebrate v a l e n t i n e ‘ s day it’s all overpriced roses and cards filled with words that should be said every damn day i don’t celebrate commercialized love and boxed chocolates (i always choose the gross ones anyway) i don’t celebrate pretty heart...
garden of heartache.

garden of heartache.

wilted, like funeral roses, black and crumbling from the weight of your ghost they sit in stagnant denial, thoughts swirling and dreams drowning in their desolation, petals plucked and seeds strewn — perhaps, they’ll create a garden of heartache for all the lonely...