I often wonder how, in a world full of billions of people, I managed to lose just one. A collection of poetry dedicated to the people who have helped me lose myself. Without you, I would have never had the strength to truly find myself.

Through the dry dust and the aroma of gunpowder, his body crumbled, breaking apart like building blocks. His once-tight structure had become malleable. He was the small geeky boy with a gap between his front teeth and glasses that never sat higher than the tip of his nose but now he was only a robber.

A short story about the phases of grief from the point of view of a young girl who has suffered a loss

Where my mind goes (which is all over the place). An attempt to ground myself. I'm really up one day, and then down the next. It's alot. this is all I've got right now. my writing style isn't what it was. I barely write anymore. I'm getting older (I guess). I don't know, everything is confusing!!haha some trigger warnings for the story in general (anger, abuse, self harm, dysphoria, etc).

A collection of poems written during the times of trouble, questioning, and exaltation. A journal of life learning. ----- The pieces I've written were inspired by life's experiences and inevitable circumstances. Topics which are and were close to my heart. These are my QWERTYs. *highest rank: #60 in poetry

*points to the title*

a collection of essays and poems about my ever so cryptic life

Drops of Poetry It's raining outside my window Just like my emotions inside me The taste of the salty rain and sorrow Every problem falls on me like rain I catch it with my hand Turning it to rhymes and names I'm soaking wet from where I stand I don't care if I'm under a storm All I know is those little drops are stories Every day I learn new things from this horror But I can turn them into drops of poetries. This is a compilation of my poems :)

People say time heals everything. That I will eventually feel whole again. That I won't always feel so broken and empty. But I've been waiting and waiting. For something i fear may never be fixed. I watch this clock day and night. Wondering if today is the day, I'll find myself again. I've been pretty damn patient with this pain. I won't lie i feel the difference from then and now. But every night i sleep, my head fills up with things I'd like to forget. As much as i hate these thoughts and waking up to the daily reminders. I cant control what happens at night. The minutes past and im still drowning. The clock is ticking for a life time of waiting.

Originally Like Dying A collection of thoughts and poems and things I can't keep bottled up.