What makes you poetry? To love yourself, you need to realize you are poetry. Let me know in the comments section below. Enjoy! Hold a paw, and wake up to the woof or the meow of a furry cushion. Travel, to the closest grocery store open past midnight and buy that candy you used to … Continue reading How to: Be poetry.
Life is a bright sun, but it is also a tornado. These are not real stories, but the problems are real. Also, these are two different stories. I hope we survive. She was only eleven when this had happened. It was a sunny afternoon and she wanted to play with her friends in the park. … Continue reading Life.
Mirages and ink bottles. I am a pen. This might sound like a metaphorical exaggeration, or an ornamented fact, but it is what I am. Every time I hear the same song that you loved on the radio, it's like a cut on the side of my arm, and the ink just flows out. Every … Continue reading Mirages and ink bottles.
There are some things that bother me every night after 2 AM, after I listen to music with lyrics that do nothing except reminding me that you'll never be mine. It bothers me that I'll never love someone this way ever again. Love changes everyday, and it bothers me that you'll never be my constant. … Continue reading 11:11s.
Hope and caution. "If only you knew how terrified I am." - Unknown I'm the pieces of a puzzle no one wants to solve. Not even me. Why would I when it will only make an abstract image that makes no sense? Why would I when I've been told time and time again by my … Continue reading Hope and caution.