In me is a world of words
Ink runs through my veins
I am not only art
I make art
I write to feel
I bring magic to life through words
I have the power to create a whole new world with just words
Fear Me
I am soldier armed with a pen and paper
I hold the highest power
I am a writer

You can't ever write forcefully,
until it comes naturally.
It comes with hunger,
when your mind is tired and crossing out
every single thing  because it wants to feed something.
This hunger can turn sentences
into paragraphs,
and that's when you get full,
when your see your pages get full.

- Cadence Aurora

You can't ever write forcefully,
until it comes naturally.
It comes with hunger,
when your mind is tired and crossing out
every single thing  because it wants to feed something.
This hunger can turn sentences
into paragraphs,
and that's when you get full,
when your see your pages get full.

- Cadence Aurora

Being a poet
is both a pain and a privilege.

All you do is
bleed your emotions
on a thousand pages
while people sing your praises
for ages.

Somewhere inside,
a little girl
has been writing
this entire time.
She is running out of space,
but is too afraid to leave.
I opened my notebook to save her.
I can see her now.
Suffocating
between the lines
my pen is trying
pulling apart.

We are all born soft.
Floating into the hands of others.
Some don’t know how to hold on,
brush our hair back,
make a point to smile,
protect our tears in their palm.  
Instead,
they poke at us.
Say no
and go
with a firm fist.
Their claws try to embrace us,
but they only scratch the surface.
With so many punctures,
our insides drain.
Sinking,
we become skin and bones,
too hard to reach.

I heard your heart pounding at the sound of his voice

Your Knees were shaking it was not your choice

Your hands were sweaty

I'll dry them if you let me

I'll be happy if it works for both of you

And

If you fall do not worry I'll be waiting for your call

Even if it takes a while

I will let your heart smile

At the end the worst part of you

Is telling me I hope to find a guy like you...

I'm an unknown book on a shelf
That one forgets to treat with care
Passed around among many people,
Alas! I've aged with wear and tear.

I don't recall to whom I belonged
Who once penned my words in fading ink
I'm not as strong as I used to be
I'm only a novel- I can't think.

I'm looking for a gentle owner
Who enjoys reading without pretense,
Keeping me safe, worn pages intact,
The one who'll cherish my existence.