just a writer writing about love because that's what all the cool kids are falling into these days.
Constantly trying to escape To places, to people Without reason Without cause Without purpose There's no way out because there wasn't suppose to be a way in Four corners two closing in Look both ways before you cross ceaseless traffic Pray to God you make it over safely. Pray to God you make it. Pray… Continue reading dead end depression—a messy poem
The grass is always greener on the side you never make it to. At least, that's what I used to think. But he says I've got it wrong. That the grass is always greener on the side you choose to water. And all at once, my world changed. I looked at him and smiled. Asked… Continue reading Oh, baby, baby, it’s a wild world
I want to be blonde with bangs and a tattoo that says San Diego Baby A wardrobe that obsesses over pastels and sneakers And a necklace that whispers my name in soft spoken letters Live by the ocean and run on the pier Longing for the day where “there” becomes “here” Collect daises and dandelions… Continue reading San Diego Baby
It’s nights like these where I wonder most what alcohol tastes like. That if I ran now, could I make it? Nights where I don’t care to wonder if tomorrow will come. Only wonder if I’d be better off if it didn’t. And I think to myself, it’s not fair to him. After all he’s… Continue reading Sobered thoughts.
Sometimes I don't understand why I always try to do things the right way. Especially when they don't feel right to me. But I like to think it's because I want to make other people happy. To me, the right way is their way. Never my way. Because my right is wrong. And my wrong… Continue reading Conflicted, lost, but trying.
Guide me to him; pave me a route to follow where he ends up at the end of it. A yellow brick road through the woods, a sleepy meadow, and a wicked castle where I'll fight for my life just to make it home. Because there's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home. Close my eyes and click my heels three times and when I open them, let him be there. Jehovah, let him be my home.
I wonder how it feels to accomplish something start to finish. And I'm not just talking about something as small as a song. Because yes, I know songs are hard to finish and not everyone can do it but I'm talking about BIG things. Like school. Relationships. Marriage. Life. Seeing something like THAT all the… Continue reading you’re never fully dressed without a title.
