shoved a needle in my brain and now my head won't stop bleeding

we are the broken//we are the corrupt//we are the shallow #54 poetry (2/23)

these poems are for the lonely, forgotten, the lost poets at three am, and everyone else in between cover credit: -sidjenkins

Just sad tears that streamed down my face and splashed onto paper, telling my life.

w o r d s

Poems by yours truly

For it is hard to utter the unsaid.

vanilla scented poetry

Try to hear, don't leave me hoping. Please, don't try to quit. Just answer this one simple thing, Can you hear it? Won competition to be published in Creative Communication 2016 Spring Anthology

What if the only thing you have left is just a piece of paper? Well, more of a whole stack of papers, a thousand to be exact. Origami is the only thing for the one who folds again and again, one paper bird at a time. It's the only hope this person has who has fallen into the depression of knowing nothing will ever change, alone with no one to catch them. But it's not until a magical paper world opens up to this person, filled with life and color compared to the dark and gloomy life. The only question is: Will these paper cranes give this person hope once more or will they abandon this person in the darkness?