I don’t know why,

find myself,

Savoring, the way, 

The taste, 

The grace of your


Just, seven(lovely) letters.

I hope I don’t stay this way long. 

It’s a horrible cycle. One that tires quickly.

Stuck, on a man who

spoke so many sweet words.

Poison, with a honey aftertaste. 

Stuck, on a man

Who left me for 


Pubescent Drama Queen: Lost. For the Most Part


I’m tired of..

So many things.

Crying over a man who left me broken, & lost.

Having panic attacks over leaving high school, leaving all that I’ve known.

Becoming lost.

Or being. Is that right? Oh, fiddlesticks! I don’t know.


In a murky mind bog,

A wounded heart,

A shattered…

An Epitaph


When I die, for it will happen

Let my stone speak of the love, sunshine, beauty & happiness of life.

Let no one remember my sins, betrayals, mistakes, & flaws.

"Forget what happened, & live the day."

If only it were that simple.



I used to be somebody to someone. 

Not anymore.

I guess I was just passing through.

Pubescent Drama Queen: Sweater Weather


You stole my sweater darling,

My marching band one.

I didn’t mind.

"Trombone"emblazoned on your back;

The world would know that you were mine. At least,

That’s what I thought.

You wore it when you worked out, & gave it back to me last fall.

& it still hurts.

I got it back, & your smell…