Guitar Strings

Taste like summer rain & poetry

God, she was a lesson of beauty and heartbreak, flipping my world on the right side of mistakes. I fell for her eyes as they showed me the way, straight to her smile hidden beneath where my soul would lay. Lips of soft plums and a soul that would set your heart ablaze, yet she never looked more amazing than in the light of the day. Every syllable she mouthed was calligraphy to scripted to be real. They way she wore those ripped up jeans with those damn high heels. She sang the strings I played on my guitar as if heaven sent me a song from afar. The way she bit down on her bottom lip as if to keep her mouth from telling me , she was mine to borrow. I spent days falling from grace and into love with this little piece that belonged to me. In…

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War of Hearts

Taste like summer rain & poetry

Hold onto me
Don’t let go
Grip these veins with fingers,
stop the world from coming out of me
Watch my tears flow
Don’t look at me like that

I still love you , I whisper to the wind

Hold my wrist

They hurt

All the times you just let me go

I remember who you used to be

A line from my poetry

Books so dusty

They hold no value

Except to the writer

Of these dreams

I love you

But your killing me

I cannot force my air from lungs

Or the screams from a choked up throat

I hate who we have become

This is a battle of wits

A war invested in our hearts

I’m willing to fight

Yet you intend on 
Shooting me down

Pick up your shovel

Dig me a unforgiving hole

Place my limp body

On the threshold

Cover me in dirt


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Taste like summer rain & poetry

I. Don’t sweep me off my feet, I’m not that type of girl. Take a grip and grab my dark soul, rip it from my chest and show me what mercy is. Hold on, white knuckles, refuse to let me go.II. She is not fragile, a bloom not yet composed. Fire ignited her , forged in steel, tattered but still whole. Cares not for the pretty things, keep your pearls. Give her darkness, show her what light truly is. Reach down … Expose her for who she really is.

III. Let her be, wild and carefree. Allow her to swallow your imagination and create poetry of your bloody body. Allow her to spill secrets from her lips, kiss them away. Blow them to the wind, set her soul free.

IV. She has not yet lived long enough to value her own beating heart, she only knows what the world has…

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Truths & alibis

I was reminded today that I will forever be a mess, in life, love & every other aspect of everything I reach for. I’ve come to terms with this today because this is who I am, a writer, a dreamer , an old soul who falls in love every god damn day with paper & ink. My heart always has something to say & yes I chose to walk away a thousand times trying to heal myself, but the only way I know how to do that is to write every last god damn word down & purge my soul until I feel a little lighter of the weight I carry.

I am not ashamed to say I shut down & quiet the world to listen to my own heartbeats, this is the only way I know how to breathe. When the rest of the world fades to black & I am one on one with my thoughts. Maybe its destructive to push everyone out, or possibly I am just reinforcing my heart for another go. Whatever the reason, I am fucking trying like hell. That has to count for something.

I’m just going to continue to lay my heartbeats down & hope someone along the way will stop to listen. I won’t apologize for being a mess, this is the way I love & live my every day. At least I know where everything is beneath all this rubble.



What my heart wouldn’t do

to love you back to life.

Strip you of your nightmares

& smother you in ever after.

All those aches of three a.m

offerings to twisted white sheets

& unearthly flesh consumed.

Beneath tin roofs & the sound

of heartbeats & writhing rain.

The way your pulse would feel

against my skin as no other has been.

To lick your wounds, tracing scars

with soft breaths & feral instincts.

Biting down on your collarbone

to calm the need to taste anything sweet.

Drenching my tongue among the salt

of you whimper, while you remember

what it feels like to scream out my name.


Uncensored truths

The truth is this, we are survivalist. We endure countless acts of struggle on a daily basis. Some are dealing with pain, loss, grief, fitting in, desires we cannot reach, life in general. We build these walls, safe houses within ourselves trying to protect what little pieces of fragility that still exist. We close doors, afraid to open up to what if’s because we can’t bare to fail again. Some of swing those doors wide open & jump face first into whatever is that is waiting, falling flat on our asses & skinning our knees, but we learn to get back up again, wiser & stronger or within these lies we tell ourselves. We live safely, within our own comfort zones, never to allow ourselves to fully breathe. Yet we wake up every damn day & live that same day over & over, calling it Life!

What the hell are we so afraid of? Falling? Well fuck we weren’t born with wings but damn do we rely on the sky when we need something or someone to listen. So what if we screw it up, if we fall flat on our face & skin our hearts on the way down, at least we can say we fucking lived. I rather make a million mistakes along the way, I love my battle scars & the journey .These accidental moments of living with my walls down, well damn they define me. I want to be remembered for all the crazy shit I did & all the people I touched while discovering myself. I want people to say, she never just lived among the everyday, she lived like it was her last day, every god damn day of her life. For it’s the only way I know how to be me, raw & uncensored.

Live every damn day like no one is watching, love with every breath in your lungs & my god, hold onto the things that make you happy, you only get one chance to live outside the walls of your comfort zone.


Another life then

Hold on my love, a little longer than forever. I miss the days where our hearts met halfway between someday & oblivion. The way I felt safe beneath your sonnets & fragile against your words. In all the ways my heart slipped effortlessly into your chest & the only lullaby I needed was the echo of your voice. I ache for those hands that once gripped my flesh & pulled my soul beneath every way I wanted to feel, adored. I never want to know the absence of your pulse against my life, or feel the time slip through our fingers like my curls once held your fingertips. I can still feel your heart heavy in the air. Still opening my lungs, trying to breathe you in. Exhaling is the only way I know to let you go but it’s not as if my chest had a choice. If I did, you would still be here, writing next to me, the story of us & how we made it through it.