I write about the heavy parts of living - the edges, the cracks, the places that hurt.
My poems come from the tired bones, the screaming emotions, the mind and body that never rest.
They're not here to fix you.
They're here to, maybe, make you feel a little less alone.
~
Or just plain morally grey filth.
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Stories by Amy K.
The Edges of Me
Words for when living feels heavy.
Meant to be felt, not solved.
His Shadows, My Skin
He doesn't lie. He doesn't cheat. He doesn't ask.
He watches. He waits. He protects.
And if you're his, you'r...