I am a writer
I feel a lot too deeply
I take everything personally
I'm more creative than logical
I let my mind spell out the words
The pen is like another part of me
I don't leave without paper
I don't go outside a lot
And if I do it's for inspiration
To write

My mind is a whirlpool
Of feelings and words and thoughts
Every drop a different expression
Every expression a different poem
And every poem a different world
I don't ever turn my brain off
For it's the most important part of me
I can't, and I don't want to

I don't ever stop thinking-
analyzing,
observing,
exploring,
and creating
My brain is composed of worlds
Which I am more present in
Than my own

I'm silent because I'm thinking
I'm day-dreaming whenever
It's taking me time to learn how to trust,
but when I do let someone in
I love them enough
To immortalize them
By writing about them

I'm forgetful
But I remember everything
I'll forget the keys at home
Or the pasta that's cooking
But those are just small things
I remember words
And scents
And looks
And everything in between

All those little things
Make me a writer
And you might think I'm crazy
Always talking and always observing
But it's who I am.

Call me a writer.

i know who you are,
ive seen you lying in your own emptiness
wondering if you will get above the surface
of the ocean of love you have cried
do they ever give back?
not sure if you'll swim or just let yourself sink
let me be your soft breeze to help you up
do you know how to love in your solitude?
the night took away your feelings
you see the stars, but do they shine?
don't know you're not alone,
and don't believe in humanity anymore.
let me catch your tears
dry them with my soft words
you write your poems in the moonlight
will you read them to me when the sun rises?
i miss you
come back

it's that time of the year again
when rain is a release
form the hot cage of summer
it comes unexpected
uninvited
suddenly start spitting threads of water
straight from the clear-blue sky
the thunder comes first
deep sounds in the air
then there's water all around

they run away from it
hide under their umbrellas
talking about the pleasant sound
of rain on the fabric
jump into their yellow raincoats
hood above their heads
looking for a roof to escape to

I stay there
mindlessly dancing with my eyes closed
waiting for all my worries to disappear
I dance until the clouds are gone
until the smell of petrichor
is all that is left