"I'm showing them how to be compassionate. Sometimes I feel like we forget to teach kids that."

LIFE, n. A spiritual pickle preserving the body from decay. Journey on a road that is smooth, graveled and sometimes even unmade yet to the destination that is not pretty. Euphemism intended. Scribbles, v. The product of life's ups and downs while on the road to decay. Darks, lights and greys all depicted in a string of doodles and sometimes, poetry. She scribbles is a collection of poetry pieces that are a product of life's events and courses. Poetry that is stirred by an emotion, event or a thought penned down spontaneously without intrusion of alien variants with hopes that it pulls at the strings of your heart. Trigger warning: The feels that compelled/upshot the poetry are highly contagious. Take refuge in a tub of ice cream and dozens of chocolates if the symptoms cause impairment in functioning.

Mad sounds from mundane objects talk to the voices in my head saying things I could never imagine. Decipher and unravel the sounds I hear and what they say to me. I write, Helps me stay sane in this insane world. While.. Mad sounds, The voices in my head, Converse. And, I try to pay heed. A/N: I don't own the cover.

When you can't paint with colours, Paint with words; When you can paint with words, Do you really need the colours? Achievements: #11 in Poetry (23/9/26) #13 in Poetry (22/9/16) #14 in Poetry (28/7/16)

❝ everything inside of me is living in your heartbeat. ❞ © nate k. 2015

A piece of soul in ink, and unto the paper it spilled. A collection of thoughts that rhyme from a wandering mind.

Charlie doesn't speak, so he paints.

99 Entries of Imperfect Poetry.

❝Suicide (Latin suicidium, from sui caedere, "to kill oneself") is the act of intentionally causing one's own death. ❞ Cover by @_serenay