What a superficial world we live in. People choose facades over authenticity. All because they are afraid to show their scars in a world that praises pride and criticizes vulnerability. I have found that society is often envious of those that wear their hearts… Continue Reading “Authenticity”
Poetry saved my life. I can be brilliant and mad at the same time with a pen in my hand. I am not judged for the thoughts left in ink on paper. I never found my niche in life until now. I truly am… Continue Reading “Saved”
I know you sleep just fine However, I don’t Because you’re always on my mind
How many hearts could be mended by unspoken words?
I may be stable and in recovery but I once stood where you did my friend. It does get better with time. Keep going. Hold your head high. Stay strong. Much love as always.
I often wonder if I was born during the wrong time period. For I am lost in classical music, Jane Austen’s words and writing poetry in calligraphy.
I promise you one thing. Even after I am long gone and buried, these words I have spoken, will ring out of my grave. They shall remain for eternity.
I refuse to let you get the best of me I shall use this black pen as my weapon To write my story To share with others Of how I overcame everything you did to me However, you did not take this one crucial… Continue Reading “To My Abuser”
Last night I could not sleep Dreams of hatred were on the streets Violence A divide Racist speech This is not a dream A living nightmare What will it take To keep all those we love safe Family Friends Coworkers Neighbors It is not… Continue Reading “Universal Question”
I rise with these scars like a phoenix from her ashes Battles fought and won Recovery made Demons long gone Light at the end of the tunnel Has just begun As Thomas Fuller once said, “The darkest hour is right before the dawn”