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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.
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.
Depression: an absence of hope, filled with apathy, sitting in an empty house devoid of any colors or windows or doors. Sometimes I can hear a low rumbling drone, like a constant flow moving away from me, but I can't place it. I can't decipher … Continue reading Left Behind
I'm in love with a stranger. He is a painter. He paints in articulate words and vivid colors, And I find comfort in his unfamiliarity-- It captures my image of what bold should be-- Like the edges of his skin when I touch him-- But … Continue reading Abstract Artist
A poem I wrote during my Senior year of college. I am going home. I am leaving, but I hate saying good-bye. Good-byes are hard, and they aren't honest. You can't look someone in the eye and tell them it's good that you're leaving-- So here I … Continue reading My Campus Letter