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.
Nest Home
Keep Her Safe
Kiss her bruises but never create them. Cherish her softness but never think it is a weakness. Keep her close because hearts like hers need to be held safe.
Summer of Music
It was a summer of melody. You taught me how to appreciate the lyrics, how to understand the musician's meaning. You made sure I knew about all the best concerts, and you renewed my fire for live shows and crowded venues. You showed me how to make music, how to write...
Sweet Madness
Abandoned Beauty
Starlight in Darkness
Less You, More Me
Under The Bridge
Tired of whispers that attack from the shadows, arms reaching out from dark spaces, pulling me in with cruel words from a mean heart, lies that linger in the air, evidence of your pettiness, though no one would ever guess that you were the one orchestrating this mess,...
Suffocating
Pushed away, pushed under, struggling to catch my breath, the breath you stole Suffocated by your lies, your excuses, your blatant attacks that tear away at pieces of me that you don't even know and don't understand and never will Breath_words© 8/2015 photo found at...
Rambling Thoughts
Seeds of doubt rest amid rambling thoughts wavering back and forth over every decision, a constant stream of information as whispers of anxiety take up residence Breath_words© 11/19/15