i'm always writing, they're not the best writings...but the poems are my feelings, pains that i can never verbalize, dreams i can never have. the short stories are stars i can never pluck from the dark velvet of the night sky.
I dont place a name to this because I feel more free to write what i want if people cant tell its me....
yea well, we are young so set your knee on fire because we said we could so we did and dont worry i’ll find someone to carry you home because to night we are young and your knee is on fire
The hot, finely grained rocks burn my bared feet.
its much of what my life has felt like,
like I had been chipped away at and then thrown into an oven, much like the sand that lays beneath my tired feet, only to find waves of water crashing down on top of me, washing away bits and pieces of me that would never return.
The sun cries as it too sinks beneath the sea of tears that I’d never cried.
Huge rocks remind me of the paths I’d never taken, the choices I’d messed up. They’re so massive sitting on this tiny beach, yet if you went up a few dozen feet into the warm summer air, they’d look like nothing against the sandy surface.