24/M    should winter come, I would not know, til the sun melt me away like the morning snow.

Give me a shot. I write for expression, hope for change. All Rights Reserved.

Melbourne    There's a language in the way heartstrings get tickled.

Chicago    Take it, or leave it.

"Your poem doesn't start until you start telling the truth." Student. Writer. Reader. Dessert Activist. Film & TV Enthusiast. Animal Advocate. Performance Poet. Long Beach ...