The Warning

I warn them about the chaos and the turbulence. I tell them about the emotions and the past. I recount all of the ways I embody a soul too difficult to handle.

This Is What I Want For You

I want you to always wish you just fucking said sorry. But I still want you to have the guts to say it to the next person you hurt and then again to the person after that.

Outside The Box Of Writer’s Block

My hands hurt typing this. Is it my hands, though? Or my heart? I don’t know, but in truth, I really do. I know. I have known. And now I am running out of ways to avoid the knowing.