My inspiration comes from love and hate, And my poems are sparse and over the place. Beginning with the pain in a broken heart, To the love I painted in my art. Thoughts run constantly in my mind, They slip so easily through my fingers with time. So I write to feel and acknowledge, I write so I never fall over the edge. I have this curiosity that itches and demands, Its one that needs to be forgotten but it still remains. I need to work this out, "What is this really about?"

Something that hit me in the middle of the night. Hope you enjoy it.

A set of peoms for book I'll Never write..