self awareness
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my problem is I love to be brokenhearted
Because it seems as if I search for it in everything I create and come in contact with. I know now it’s not for poetry but stems from the pain that dwells within me. Is this sad or life? I no longer seek anything outside of me other than the…
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When will it get old?
The more days that pass it’s me that ages. I stuff myself in holes of immaturity and self doubt, buying my way into the fancies of life. When will it get old? Maybe in due time—maybe never. I don’t mind the fits of sadness and despair—craving, desire, and moments of…
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Keep the streets empty for me
There’s nothing more prevailing than the silence. Biting of the lips until they bleed dripping on unknown territory. It doesn’t matter what you tell me anymore I’ve lost myself to the night. At this point I’ll never tell you my purpose for I don’t know. I have always been in…
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Setting my life ablaze one day at a time
How dare I show my face here; how dare I show my face anywhere. Digging myself into a hole I may never get out of—voluntarily. My life has always been one of search and exploration; now it’s become one of craving and romanticism. I told my mom the other day…
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am I scared?
Do I have a reason to be? Others being scared for me—-scares me. Please stop. I’m more scared of things that have no matter. Not for my life. Away with it for all I care. Gruesome? Maybe. And still I laugh at the stupidity that spills out my mouth. Why…