Writing

I feel my voice, see the child of memory with the snake coiled around his kneck wishing to be freed.

Before women had a voice...

A poem through the words of a repressed.

A comparative piece displaying the effects of addiction and the questioning of whether love is nature or nurture.

The feeling of being hurt by the insides of guilt. The strength to own up and change. The story of seeing the cross roads.

2017.11.10 @ 19:42

I got love that aint been lovedIt’s just pilin’ up insideTime I let loose all that lovin’Set it free before I dieI got kisses aint b..

Your emotions make you human. Even the unpleasant ones have a purpose.

Tags Repressed