Everyone makes mistakes, and in that we are all alike, and that is alright.
My heart Is a glass ball Delicate Awaiting somebody Who will cradle it gently
What am I without poetry, Without words, blossoming on the page? I would be but a shell of myself And you would find me
Whiteboards are erasable. Write down a message Swipe it away with a sleeve Scribble down another message. Swipe it away again.
He drapes his hand over the mounta… Brushes his fingertips over the fi… His breath dusts the windowpanes w… He cries for Spring, his tears fa… Soft mounds of snow form below him…
As you walk away, Without looking back, I stand here, heart in my hands. I wish you had stayed Or that I’d done something differ…
The wind– A finicky rush That has to be somewhere else All the time. The faint echoes of summer
And we were always running never to but always from and always running... And we were always hurting never for but always from
If I died And no one knew, I don’t know. And I am scared And everything hurts
I want to hold your hand Tight in my own As we run far away To a brand new home. I want to cup your face
flirting with death ring the bell and run she knows it was you but she lets you go you are waiting to die.
Something warm has curled up inside my chest. It is filled with hate, with sadness, with things I cannot express.
Hi Dad. I’d like you to know I’m finally Unboxing each memory Framed
It is the emptiness, the nothingness, the in-between. Is it broken? Is it maimed?
Notes rolling off of my fingers The right hand sings a soft melody… The richer undertones of the left… Flowing and melting in swirling ma… The quiet inner voice on the right…
Maybe I resent it because I know that since it meant so much it hurts so much more. And maybe I resent the fact