Young Writers Society

all I did was apologize for getting blood on her carpet.

​The monkeys and bears and tears blur together. This poem is the theme of my next poetry novel.

—

rest in peace

A metaphorical tale of loss from the tragedy of seasonal depression

Something I wrote after being inspired by a plastic bottle beside my window, when I woke up.

​When I remember that you would still love me tomorrow, even if I wasn't here, it makes me wait.

Recently, I wondered what I would say to you, if you ever apologize to me.

This is the first of many (hopefully) stories surrounding the woodfolk's child, abandoned, now an explorer of the world I am creating. Enjoy!

I wrote this for one of my friend and anyone who is struggling.

A short poem on how writing loses its magic

You still kiss me, with the cool air, I breathe in, as I leave a trail of footprints in the sand.

two in one : )

Do you remember when we built our snowman or sled down the hill? Do you remember it at all?

Inspired by the song: Over the hills and far away