It took a long time for me to consider myself a writer. I still struggle with saying it. I started writing at a young age to work through feelings I didn’t dare tell anyone. I learned that once you start writing, it becomes a part of you. It’s something you always go back to whenever you are overwhelmed with certain emotions. People don’t always listen to your words, but the paper always listens to the pen.
Etched Emotions
Moments and Mistakes
I can feel them lurking in the back of my throat, moments and mistakes that my mind won't let go, hovering there, ensuring I don't forget, turning them into lessons of anger and regret that I was naive enough to allow myself to be changed into someone else and you...
When I Lost Myself
Those moments where reality faded, where I lived to forget, where I tried to hide from all the things that were going wrong, where I sought to escape from the walls that were closing in I don't want to remember when I lost myself Breath_words©...
Pulled Under
I feel your hands pulling me under. My body is covered in bruises and cuts from your words, from my struggling, from the lies, like rocks that I keep crashing into over and over as I push to reach the surface so I can finally breathe again. By Breath of Words...
Decipher Her
Pointless
Written
Indifference
Days
Days of contemplation, hours spent counting all the mistakes I've made, all the lies I believed, all the lies I've told Days of remembering where I gave my trust to those who never deserved it, where I gave my attention to those who never cared Days of such in-depth...
Pour Me Another
You're the shot of whisky burning straight to my core, the heat and the sting that makes me crave more, such fabricated bliss wrapping me up in the oblivion of its hold Breath_words© 1/2015