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This page will be my word vomit page. I’m not a writer, nor do I know if I ever will be, but this is just for fun/clarity of my brain

My writing style usually goes back and forth from writing normally and poetry. I’m not claiming any of it will be good. But please do not make fun of.

Writing is my outlet. Its how I express my emotions and get my thoughts out. It helps me feel logical, and helps to remind me that I’m not over thinking.

Not everything I write here will be non-triggering. I’ve been struggling with mental health for about 7 years now. Its not been easy, but I’ve fought hard to be where I am today. And writing helps me to be here. So enjoy, and please remember to take care of yourself 🤍


Sometimes things don’t go as planned. Everything just feels like it’s shifted two inches to the left and the smoke won’t seem clear from the line of sight. As if the birds are singing metal music and the grass is pink. The roses turned blue and the sky is orange.


Check out my new poem


Too far 8.20.22

We make people our life’s. We make them our everything. And when they leave we have nothing left. We feel empty Bc they’re took part of our soul. And now our heart is empty and parts of our soul are gone. And it’s crazy. To believe that people drink, pop pills, cut, smoke, and do reckless things to forget the person who made them feel so empty. We use items to take the place of the person we love. And eventually we’re addicted. And we can’t do anything but suffer until someone notices. But by then, it’s too late. We are too far gone. And there’s no coming back


The taste of it all on the outer of my lips, I’m yearning for just one last taste. One last touch, for you