your mind is honey to my mouth, kiss me with your intellect and serenade me with your passions. touch my heart and tickle my thoughts, no physical contact is needed, let me in on what you're thinking.
to travel is to truly open your eyes.
"my heart is beating fast," a statement. "why?" an impossible question. i could try explaining. first, i'll say because i was nervous. "wait, no," i'll hesitate and furrow my brows, looking for a more accurate word. then, i'll correct myself, a moment of triumph as i slurp back the word hanging from the tip of... Continue Reading →
i need to stop reading some of my poetry because what people don't understand is that the words typed or written on those pieces of paper have the power to transport you back to those moments that you just want to forget about or heal from.
sometimes i avoid writing poetry because when i have my pen in my hand i am forced to think of the things worth writing about.
i don't like ambiguous poetry. i like my poetry to be blunt and raw and straight to the point, like how i wish i could be. no fancy figurative language to cover up the truth leaping off my tongue. just me and the pen. that's how i like my poetry.
i will stand by you, i promise.
you don't realize how sad you were until you read the poetry left behind.
i've been all over the place ever since you walked into my life and a part of me is screaming for me to let go of all of this, and crawl my way back to safe solitude. but another part of me, which is usually shy and quiet, is telling me loud and clear to... Continue Reading →