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.
Book Review – Serendipity by Samantha Modica
Serendipity is book of poetry by Samantha Modica that captures love and heartbreak in vivid detail. Her use of allusion and metaphor allows her stories to reach out to the reader. Her poems read almost like a novel, mini snapshots of a larger story that lingers in...
let me remind you.
my heart is made for warming my words are meant for screaming my mind is an autumn sun, and my soul is a winter moon you said i am a spell waiting to be conjured you move within my madness, fingers lingering between my meanings i ask you to pick your poison, and you...
thoughts that tantalize the tongue.
flavors float through memories, just a taste to remind me of the moment when we collided, cranberry and lime staining my tastebuds with visions of you -ashley jane
i am journal of lost secrets buried too deep for you to reach.
some people prefer to stay on land. never searching below the superficial surface. they look just long enough to find their own reflection, to turn your story into theirs, to make themselves the focus. now me, i want conversations that can only be found in the depths....
Book Review – Black Hearts, Bullet Wounds and Barrooms by Stein and Roberts
Black Hearts, Bullet Wounds and Barrooms by Ruby Stein and Angeline Roberts I can't tell you how happy I was to finally sit down and read this book. Black Hearts, Bullet Wounds and Barrooms is volume one of an anthology written by two ladies whose melancholy matches...
i am swallowed up by the silence.
i dreamed that these red seas were made of pretty poppy petals, that i was sinking into warm memories instead of drowning in the starving quiet your absence left behind -ashley jane
silly, stupid hearts.
hearts can be such pretty fools, always courting madness and trying to make a home in a b a n d o n e d spaces filled with unloved bones -ashley jane
i am filled with the forgetting.
you sent me winter roses, a bouquet of dying petals and dried november leaves i cut myself on the thorns now i am bleeding violet in a world of gray still, thorns don’t hurt the way words do, and there is no sting as sharp as the one delivered by your riposte tongue...
pieskos.
we sit around the fire, our bodies soaking up the heat we are grateful hearts entwined with a warm and wild grace that blooms deep within our souls -ashley jane
Book Review – All the Things I Never Said by Mae Krell
I go through periods with poetry. Sometimes, I want deep insight, others I want that simple line that reaches out. In All The Things I Never Said, Mae Krell has points where she delivers both. When this book was published, Krell was only fourteen. Some have criticized...