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.
Unnamed Flame
Walks Between
She walks between his unsaid words. Breath_words© 7/28/15
The Void Inside
Stronger When Bound
Sunlight and Warmth
Silhoutted by sunlight, soaking up the warmth, trying to rid herself of the aching in her gut that overwhelms her with each sunrise She breathes in the moment, letting the light skim over her skin, exhaling the memories that still haunt her each night Breath_words©...
If you meet a loner…
Guiding You Home
I let you in, gave you permission to burrow deep under my skin And you've left traces, little whispers of yourself in so many places So, even when things aren't easy, those little parts will guide you home again Breath_words© 7/8/15 *picture by Annie...
Write
Three Wise Men
Packed Away
Head bowed, she folds in on herself, so skillfully tucking every emotion away. She hides her true feelings, storing them, like luggage, for another time and place. She packs up all sentiment, every breath of whispered words and every hope that you'll stay....