I am alone In the streets of a foreign city In the night when the people empty Out of this place I am not home In these pieces of broken places In my mind where I feel wasted and lose my days I find a bottle and let it fill me with dread and fear… Continue reading Alone
For Writers
Just Existing
Everyday I ask myself, "What am I doing with my life?" And sometimes... I feel fear when the words escape my mouth-- Like they are running into the unknown, Quickly being ripped away from me Without giving an answer to the emptiness I am left with. I meet a crisis everyday. I ask myself when… Continue reading Just Existing
Suffocating
This isn't what I asked for. I asked for freedom and confidence to open my hands and catch promises, But I feel crushed by a suffocating loneliness that bids me to go to bed. My eyes close and I let the darkness fall in on all sides, because I realize I am afraid of myself. I… Continue reading Suffocating
The Lack of
I have a block in my mind that weighs the rest of my body down Until I am buried beneath the ground Blinded by my apathy and self-doubt. The block causes build up in my brain with random strains of words That mean nothing-- It only cause my nerves to stay in the past tense of… Continue reading The Lack of
Protected: The Breaking
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
My favorite things
My favorite part of your body Are your hands. They feel like Warmth Sun Light And a little more Ethereal to the touch Than the rest of us. *Inspired by Rupi Kaur
Waiting
Waiting for love is like Waiting for warmth in December Or for snow in the middle of summer-- It's as consistent as the weather And as simple as an atom, Or a quiet explosion-- But I can't seem to find it.
Listen
Talking sounds more like listening To bursts of thunder crackling in the distance Filling the room with static Until the build up in our space becomes charged with rage-- Until everything has changed-- Until our bodies become nothing but pieces of wreckage: A chaotic explosion for the barren wasteland Where our minds are left behind… Continue reading Listen
Bang.
His touch grips the revolver in my mind and sets it off with a burst of color-- Drained to white As pain replaces the adrenaline and leaves me Wasted.
A Dark Cell
My mind is sick. There is a cancerous cell closing in on all sides until my eyes close for the day and give me time away from myself. My mind is sick, and I can't escape it.
