It’s often that I find myself scrolling through a random person’s social media and realizing I know all about them, but they know nothing of me, let alone my existence.
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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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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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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 -
I never wanted you to love me, I just wanted you to understand how much I loved you.
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I’m younger than you, but my soul has been there and it lived there, and I know how it feels to be where you are.
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You never broke my heart. You just took it away.
