"When I tell you that he hates me, you'll probably assume it's because he's a jerk...but you'd be wrong. He's not a jerk. I am." --- Several years ago tragedy struck Emma's home, leaving her broken... like a cup with cracks spiraling and slithering around the edges. Slowly, bitterness crept in like tar, harden...
A piece of soul in ink, and unto the paper it spilled. A collection of thoughts that rhyme from a wandering mind.
Isn't that the saddest word? Almost. Something with so much potential... but just didn't happen. We were almost lovers. We almost lived. These were almost stories. ●●● [ a collection of poems ] highest ranking: #3 [[ 08_03_16 ]]
I am an artist and this is my garden of words. Copyright @2015, All Rights Reserved
Perhaps someday these words will make up for the bloodshot eyes and sleepless nights. [H.R: #13 in Poetry] beautiful cover by: @-averagesky
You've surfaced upon the sweet scents and daunting tints of My blood dwelling life, expressed in the form of poetry. Bubbly and lighter from the outside but a misty shade darker, on the inside, Portrayed through self depicting tales edged by hope and driven by love. *READ IN A BLACK SCREEN* •style• The style of poet...
