My work is raw
Edited (mostly)
I type on my phone
Let my fingers work it’s magic
I write because I love it
My imagination runs wild
From happy to sad
To anger and despair
From real to fantasy
To my life and the world
This is what’s its my head
Again, raw and unedited writings..

THIS IS ME...

What if love was like the sun
and the moon was the essence
of heartache, a darkness
passing by every now and then
like a coldness that makes us lonely
on a long Monday afternoon,
would it be forever or only, hopefully,
for just an hour or maybe two?

for every tear
that slides across my face
a smile is preparing
to bloom in it’s place.

You sighed so much
your lungs almost collapsed.

Is existing the same
as living?

You tell yourself
that "today is the day"
day after day
after day
after day

But depression drags you
back to your bed.
It tells you
"there's another day"