This is how I choose to control what's going on inside my soul
Doesn't Make a Lot of Sense
This is a diary I choose to share with the world This is supposed to be a poem Things are rough things get bad than horrible
The Millionth Poem About Rape
You say I'm a baby, that it makes me childish to be afraid to walk to the public restrooms alone But what you don't know is
this is a tricky thing at first i have no idea what im doing with anything and want to cry then the next everything is perfectly in line
Home. More or less on an alley on the corner a ranch style house with no style what so ever. Dingy looking and even worse on the inside.
Spring time New blossoms and blooms It's full of life However something lingers It brings in its wake oppressive sadness
What Part Was the Worst?
DON’T READ IF YOU KNOW ME Sit down and tell me the worst What do you mean to worst part? I got asked this at 14 The therapist repeated
Crash and Burn
The person I am is Not the person I was I believe maybe I was happier or maybe I was just more reckless than I am now But there comes a time when living fast is too fast
To cope and to heal I need three things 1.) poetry 2.) photography 3.) most importantly you