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.
It’s All You Get
This will be my answer when you bring trouble to my door, constantly searching for something more as you stir the pot with vicious greed, too consumed with your need for attention of any kind, provoking with words so out of line, and playing the victim of drama that...
Goodbye
Your name resounds in my head, and I try to remember every word that you said. I cling to the hope that you'll be back. You were the glue that filled all my cracks, and I'm dying without you here. My heart's caving in. It needs you closer, wants you near. I am slowly...
Imperfectly Real
She is light and love, with demons underneath spilling forth with words that breathe She dances to music that is in her head She hides her tears in the pillow on her bed She tries not to lie to you or herself She never pretends to be someone else She is not the...
Fly Free
A caged heart, rebelling, yelling begging for release as it flutters rapidly, beating at the walls that keep it confined, emotions locked inside, until the cage gives way and a thunderstorm of butterflies fly free Breath_words© 12/7/15
Without Walls
Realization
Time’s Reminder
Holidays
Grave Digging
