Poems & the inner thoughts of my mind <3 All rights reserved. No parts of this disclaimer may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy or recording, or any Information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from publisher. #13 in Poetry 11.8.21 #1 in venting 23.9.21 & 03.3.22 #3 in prose 24.9.21 #2 in poemcollection 25.9.21 #1 in lifeexperiences 28.9.21 & 03.10.21 #1 in short poems 29.9.21

vanilla scented poetry

"Will you ever hear me in the rain?" "...?" ***** #157 in Poetry February 12, 2016 #86 in Poetry February 14, 2016

sometimes we fall in love with the wrong people. and we stay with them, because we think that our love is enough to mold them into the person we want them to be. it never is. and the inadequacy of your love will hurt you. you will wonder why you are not enough for the one person who is more than enough for you. ~~an older book of poetry~~ february 27th 2018- september 5th, 2018 special thanks to @avadel for the gorgeous cover hr: #1 in poems 7/22/19 #1 in sadpoems 9/1/19

i cried to you but you never truly understood. -- #3 in poetry on 2/24/21 &lt;3

people write about things that do not happen. they will romanticize this world in hopes of filling themselves up. they write like their words are food. but i have always written to empty myself completely. i will romanticize feeling nothing. june 1st 2018- august 16th 2018 thank you, @blushingbieber, for the wonderful cover! hr: #1 in poem 8.3.18 #1 in poetrycollection 8.15.18 #1 in poems 4.28.19

I looked at your heart and saw it was empty, I knew I couldn't fill it with my love, so I filled it with flowers and empty promises for the world we'd have left behind.

The chattering of canaries beneath the cumulus clouds' silhouettes call nature out to breathe once more for I am here, laying above verdant grasses. I carry the heart of a romantic; the art of loving enwreathes itself around my worn out heart. For each heartbreak I experience, petals wither until it strikes the ground. For every heartstring they tug, flowers flourish hither and thither. Among the fluttering wings of the butterflies and subtle purls of the valley, this flowerbed that houses the essence of my existence rises above the ground. Prose and Poetry Completed