I have little pieces of everyone I've loved in me.
Quality's,
Memories of people i could name,
Some quality's more than others,
I keep them with me in an overfilled box like a burden I'd rather not carry.
—Flowers
Connor,
Connor reminds me of flowers,
wilting or not—and my father.
So needy, so bittersweet,
A need to leave him before he relies he had the capability to destroy me like I'd trample on flowers.
—Cigarettes
Nayla,
she was a girl,
A girl of which makes up the most of me.
She takes nature,
The sky,
cigarettes—and the moon.
She takes me for all I am and corrupts it.
—sea water
Cerys,
she is my muse,
She has half of my soul,
She keeps it safe from my claws,
Making sure I don't tear it out by the seams.
I give her my poetry,
My hopes and dreams,
She is my lifeline.
My oxygen.
YOU ARE READING
poetry
Poetrypoems of mine, some I write in the moment, Some as confessions, some as things held close to me- this is my story, my story which I share with cautiousness. Full disclosure!! : references of abuse, trauma, self Harm, suicide, and depression.
