There was a fire in his eyes that… But by the effects of many things Not a rage, nor malice, Nor hatred of anything He had experienced much but was he…

I’m walking with my eyes closed to… And my chest open Thought I’d feel the breeze throu… Making sounds like wind chimes Wanted to feel the warmth of the s…

You told me to hold on to somethin… Funny how life works You told me to never give up on an… It’s funny how I can remember all… How I can remember the way I felt…

Why is it so easy to write when I… Why do I love to imagine your ver… Why do I flash back to the times… Why is it that my wrist is breakin… And soul is aching while I write…

“This ain’t love”, she tells me, Only indulging in me when it benef… “This ain’t real”, she cries, “Only seeing the things I’ve done… Only appreciating me when struggle…

Come touch me in violating ways so… My identity lies in defilement and… Come say you love me and then scor… Come caress my nonexistent self es… I wanna burn with deceitful passio…

Nothing can take the place of a fr… Ink stains on fingertips, Side swept paper cuts, And long sleepless nights Remember that a poet is nothing wi…

There are some things I’ve writte… I hope I never have to read again But I do not forget, I’ll have to find myself again Someday

An overbearing mother Two overwhelming siblings And too much time alone Phone Taken Back up discovered

“I’m done with those childish games. I’m ready to be with someone I can share my heart with,” he said. "I’m in love with you. I plan on marrying you. I’m not going anywhere. I’m set. I ...

I guess it started a long time ago… Me giving away my happiness for a… I guess I never had an independen… and try as I may, I still don’t h… I still seek the approval of the o…

More than words can say, I swear… A phrase so easily put into words… Even though the beauty of you illu… Even you shut your eyes and hide a… Even you choose to disguise

A man who is a poet is one who is… One who craves love underneath his… So much that he would scratch the… A man who is a poet believes that… That he must hold it in his hands…

It’s like nothing I’ve ever exper… It’s like being afraid of the unkn… It’s like bleeding out in the Pac… It’s just like free falling It’s like going out into the world…

All types of writing has guideline… All poetry seems to have some sort… Vocabulary must be up to par, Each stanza having its specific or… The way I see it,