“My body tells all the secrets my mind likes to keep. Only those who are fluent in my language will know the words I long to speak.”

The heaviness of world can often feel like we’re living in black and white, sometimes all we need is a splash of color to remind us of the good in life.

Instead of pouring me the finest liquor, he filled my cup with false promises and sweet nothings.

He lit my soul like a wildfire and it burned me to the ground.

After a while the eye candy I used to crave became bitter to taste.

I don’t need a doctor or a shaman to tell me how I feel, Only I have the power to heal. I can mend my wounds into scars as a reminder of where I’ve been and how far I’ve come.

Its the little things that make life worthwhile, like when he looks at me with that innocent smile.

Flashes of your touch race through my mind even when I’m with other guys.

There are so many beautiful parts of me but your eyes were too out of focus to notice.

He and I were like water and oil, We could co-exist, but never quite mixed.

I was blinded by the desire to be wanted that I forgot how to love myself.

I never thought the victim would be me yet there I was paralyzed and struggling to set myself free. It took every fibre in my being to walk away and let it be.

Grief sits uncomfortably until it seeps under your skin, so you no longer feel weighed down by it but still feel its subtle presence.

Maybe those who hurt me in the past were not all monsters, but rather kindred spirits who got lost along the way.

I’m drawn to you like a moth to a flame, its no wonder I can’t resist every time you say my name.

I pushed you away like the ocean does to the tides, but we always come back together whether it rains or shines.

Please don’t make me feel special or worthy of your time, If you’re just going to feed other girls those same sweet lines.

Bodies are real entities. Surfaces and lines are but fictitious entities. A surface without depth, a line without thickness, was never seen by any man; no; nor can any conception be seriously formed of its existence.

If only were my skin like art shining against the mould, if only my body were a canvas brave if only.

When will the leaves begin to change in this body of mine?

They called me a lost cause but I’m not the boy I once was I’ve paid full price for each mistake now I know, how much this body can take.

My pent-up passion seeped out like gas from a leaky stove, your touch was the spark I needed to set my body on fire.

I have emptied myself of a heavy burden today lifted it out of my body and placed it down its not the end but it’s a beginning.

Longing made a home in my body.

Her face was art and her body was poetry in a short black dress.