someone who gets you

when i say i write poetry, i mean i think too deeply for my own good hold on to years of memories the bad and the good my tears tell a story my silence writes letters never sent i relive old chapters again and again

writing comes easier than speaking my thoughts drift in quiet rhymes my book is written published in the universe of my mind the pages fear what i might reveal so they remain unwritten

summer love

He always admired her from afar

slowly the thoughts of others became silent she stepped away from the stage no longer craving validation she danced in the quiet of her own freedom

she loved the ocean, it seemed to drown out her own thoughts

time stopped when she was with him

what excites you? recently, everything the sun on my skin the grass writing stories beneath my feet the sky an endless canvas, always shifting

may flowers grow in the parts of you that hold trauma may the rain come and wash away all the hurt you never deserved

you don't get it, poetry it heals me writing, my safe haven

promise me you'll remember you're not others perception of you let them whisper

happiest at the beach