The story
writes
the writer

i.

i used to only write sad poems.

ii.

you see,
i am a cynic,
a cemetery,
a holocaust,
a chaotic, distant, lost girl
buried in her own
self-destruction.

but with you
i am different.

i want to wake up,
keep my promises,
make up for lost time,
spill blood and ink,
try again,
live

for you.

iii.

you walk me home
and the skies blush
pink cloud summers
mid-December.

we part and i marvel
at the sepia tint
of backyard roses
blurring my lenses.

you came in
like the missing palette color
i never knew
i needed
my skies painted with.

iv.

now, you are all the love poems
i didn't know i could write.

and every metaphor i create
is just a lengthier version of
'i love you'

i really do.

When your heart feels heavy:

1. Sit down in silence
2. Take off your shoulders
3. Hear your bones crack
4. Let your eyes breathe
5. Whisper to your heart,
it's home.

She ran her fingers
across her bookshelf,
allowing the dust
to coat her nails.
The sound of shuffling pages
filled the room,
creating music,
to which she couldn't help
but dance.

Write
Simple,
I tell myself,
Write
Poetic,
I force myself,
Write
Beauty,
I convince myself,
Write
Imagery,
I encourage myself,
Write
with purpose,
I plead myself.