Poetry is
poetry is salvation. It is the air that fills our lungs when we were sure we would drowned. It is a moment of peace in a world of madness. It is a beauty so pure and vast that the darkness within us is forced into hiding when in its presence. Poetry is a meadow of well placed words when you need a vacation from life.
Writing With Passion
My heart pumps words through my veins like blood. They reach the tip of my tongue and I spew them out to the dark corners of my mind. The message is pushed to my fingertips and they rush to the keyboard to record every phrase.
sometimes I think this is a gift but then sometimes I wonder if it is not a cures.
In order to write you must feel with passion even when you wish you couldn’t feel at all.
I miss you
I would have given you the world if you had given me the chance but you didn’t so now I just sit around missing you.
Endless oceans
Endless oceans call my name
Begging me to leave this shame
To join them where the sun does set
And learn to live without regret
Fog marches in to the steady tempo of waves beating against the shore and the fulls singing above, greedily consuming leagues of ocean as it rolls ever closer to my weary heart. And as it embraces me, I hear it whisper…
Come to me
when you want to hide
I’ll take you to safety
on the changing
(You were happy at last
Years of silence put away
No longer on my edgeLeave me a secret to keep
Plant a tree in my belly
Bury me naked
Come back & find
The roar of demons
Is only the rattle of time.)
About me
I would tell you all about me if I could but I'm still in the works. All I know for sure is that I am twenty and I am going to be a neurosurgeon. Also, I like to write.
