Our dance was beautiful. The essence was incredible and the emotions were pure like nothing I have ever felt before.
December 2014
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I can give you everything, which includes all of me, but will it mean anything?
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The saddest form of art is the one that speaks truth, dignity and an uneasy vulnerability.
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Read more: I love your work. What drives you to write?
My urge to understand someone else’s thought process.
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Read more: You should definitely publish one of your books! I would love to read it!
Ha! Thanks. When a traumatic event happens in my life I generally write a book based on the essence of the situation. My poetry is personal but for me it’s different. I can warp words, bend meanings and only I truly understand what they mean, yet my books are different.
The only one I’d likely publish is the lunch with my ex series, which is titled Lunch. It’s a coffee table book with the complete conversation. A few people have read it and said it’s really heavy, but I should publish it. In my opinion, just really dramatic and probably completely unnecessary, but an interesting conversation piece. So, ha, maybe one day.
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Read more: Your writing is beautiful! I love writing books, but I never seem to finish what I started because because I get bored with the idea and I get so many new ideas and just have to get them down. Any tips on how to finish something I started?
Thanks! Honestly… I’m the worst with this. I have a few hundred drafts on here and a few thousand on my phone. I’ll write, write, write and just stop — when it stops flowing, I stop. I pick up later (there’s generally always a later) and continue.
When you have an idea, just go for it. I’ve written a few books (not published) and a couple I’ve never finished. I write to understand situations, not necessarily to finish, so when I get what I wanted, that’s generally the end for me. In my opinion, it’s basically just the mindset and end purpose of what you wanted to gain from whatever you’re writing.
Hope that helps somewhat! lol
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Read more: a mind of its own
the moist droplets of a warm serenity
how i was warned by the bask, the dark of all his cracks
the eve in the night, the recluse of sunlight
use of fire and division to create diversionsan image in the rough and eyes with green of envy
from side to side and lathered through the middle
spread in a bed full of lies
used blue skies to disguise fright from shinea constant need for beginning, to hide from the truth of his dusk
the darkness swarms and warns from a distance
coming and going and traveling at the speed of light
causing and living in a world full of smiteit dies and lives and comes again
exists in the new and hides in his brain
he can’t foresee, but his power of pain never leaves
storms in the night and lives in his pores
comes and goes and cries as he envisionsa plead for love, someone to care for
but he’s unconscious to affection and lives in seduction
has a soul so opaque that leaves his heart out at sea
always wandering, wading and waiting as his subconscious ruins his emotions and twirls his lust for love behind shaded trees
