The wistfulness of never being able to tie loose ends, because of an unexpected passing. Everyone always thinks they have more time.
You never knew the full extent of feelings I had for you.
All of your true colors painted a tragic picture.
my uncle died last night and I've been mourning in a state of manic depression
Heartbreak becomes grief becomes acceptance. The last stage is burial.
This poem explores purpose despite mortality and celebrates the human capacity to endure and cherish life.
An attempt at getting over the best thing that has ever happened to me.
Wealth and Prosperity were beautiful, with their gilded gowns and glass hair. When they fell, their bodies shrieked as they hit the ground, before shattering into a million pieces.
A 9/11 re-telling.
WARNING, mature language and may be triggering for some.
Tbh I don’t think this is my best work, but it’s honest.
A poem on love, loss, and complications.
Oh, and here is my book, Up Until Now: http://a.co/8Ed9JyF
The wistfulness of never being able to tie loose ends, because of an unexpected passing. Everyone always thinks they have more time.
You never knew the full extent of feelings I had for you.
All of your true colors painted a tragic picture.
my uncle died last night and I've been mourning in a state of manic depression
Heartbreak becomes grief becomes acceptance. The last stage is burial.
This poem explores purpose despite mortality and celebrates the human capacity to endure and cherish life.
An attempt at getting over the best thing that has ever happened to me.
Wealth and Prosperity were beautiful, with their gilded gowns and glass hair. When they fell, their bodies shrieked as they hit the ground, before shattering into a million pieces.
A 9/11 re-telling.
WARNING, mature language and may be triggering for some.
Tbh I don’t think this is my best work, but it’s honest.
A poem on love, loss, and complications.
Oh, and here is my book, Up Until Now: http://a.co/8Ed9JyF