Poetry Of Madness
"I was the first heart he broke."

queen-of-the-pack said: You absolutely amaze me to no end, you have inspired me to write again, and I have realized that a poem doesn't have to be 15 lines to be meaningful. Many of your 1 lined poems have had me thinking for days. Thank you for being an amazing poet.

Thank you and I am proud of you, darling. You are so lovely.

Anonymous said: you are so pretty

thank you ;)

"He looked into
my eyes and said:
I don’t want to fall in love
with you.
I don’t want to love you.
And I smiled."

eymeennn said: My poem or story idk “I just long to see you everyday every minute of my conscious existence. Never did I think I would ever love someone so deeply now all I have are memories. Thinking over and over if I was the one in the wrong. I long for that love that belonging. Now I’m up at 5 am smoking a cig and you’re the only thing on my mind. I wonder if I’m on your mind. 
But then again I’ll never forgive you for what you did”

Thank you for sharing. Such a lovely poem to read. 

fishingforbreakfast said: I love your blog. Everything you write is so strong and emotional. I love every single poem you put out and I'm pretty sure with your talent, a great future lies ahead of you! I, myself, am a writer too and I wish for one day that my words can be just as strong as yours are now. You make me a little bit jealous but in a good way and I hope you cherish the power there is in words!

Oh my gosh, thank you so much. You are such a sweetheart. 

But remember you don’t just wake up with power, you gain power down the road, and I am pretty sure one day you will shine so bright, I have read some of your work and let me tell you, you have great potential. 

You are an amazing writer, and photographer. 

  -  20 July

Anonymous said: She never turns me down when I ask her out for the night; she helps me through the tough times when I'm too tired to fight. First I put her down, then I smash her against the wall, then use a piece of her to cut you out before I fall. I'll wake up in the morning covered in blood and trying to forget last night's vodka flood. This bottle is the only friend to me and I swear she'll be the end of me.

Bravo, I love this. Thank you for sharing. 


He never understood
that touching me with his greedy hands
was not enough for me.

I needed words. I wanted words.
I wanted his hands on my hips
and his words on my paper.