Lost
oh honey, I'm already gone
This is a collection of my poetry. I've been writing since I was nine years old. Most of it is actually about me. All is mine, unless said otherwise. Please vote, and comment.
Ivy-jacketed, December oaks on road-borders shock their stark gestures at us now, through sun and sleet, that January will yawn at and February, propping eyelids, will desperately ignore, longing for blossom; and making do with the least of anything flowering.
i know who i am. and i know who i do not want to be. i am easy in my own skin even while i struggle. i am anything but perfect, but that is okay. and i love the ocean. many of these have something to do with that. i also love people who live there. the rest of these have something to do with them. some have nothing to...