Your words ring like bells. Time to start and time to go. The clock ticks heartbreak.


Why do we call it love when the only passionate interaction we have, is when anger is exploding from our words?


You say things without realizing the commitment. Those words ease my mind, but only temporary. I’m tired of the unanswered questions. The unfulfilled declarations. Disappointment, everywhere. Overflowing. Over this.

February 25, 2017.

That night, You held me in your arms. You wiped the tears as they spilled from my eyes. Without judgement, you told me to not let my past define me. Nestled in your safety, I had never felt such comfort before this.   That night, you reminded me I was a good person. You knew…

Soul food.

Reading has always been a form of coping for me when I need a break, an escape, a stress-reliever, a decision influence (this works sometimes, I swear). Reading a book twice might be seen as a criminal act to some people. But we, as humans, are constantly changing. Our decoding and interpretation of words is…

Lucky one.

Wander the bookshelves. Read the words you can’t admit. Some never find them.