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Poetry has always been a release for me to get life off my chest. Writing came easy when my tongue could not manage to form the words tangled in my throat. It was the only practice that allowed me to breathe freely without feeling as though there was no outlet for the thoughts and feelings stirring within. Pen and paper became an avenue to freedom.
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This Pain is Not Welcome Here
It was days of searing pain up my neck, wrapping around my skull and weaving through my face. The pain throbbed in my …
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The Mind of an Overthinker – Has My Farmer Gone Dahmer?
For a while now, I have been purchasing from smaller businesses. Today was my first time supporting a local farm. I placed an …
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The Killer Truth of Depression – Sometimes it’s People
They told me that I had suicidal tendencies because I was upset, heartbroken, angry, confused, sad, and lonely. They said that I wrote …
