what you are

you are the pre-loved book at a thrift shop that i brought home and finished overnight: your page torn and worn, your scent rustic and dusty, your letters faded, your story mysterious and unchanged— you are perfect to me. you are the feels that comes at three in the morning, the distant, resonating waves of... Continue Reading →

The Rain that Poured Today

I am a writer. I write for anyone and everyone who hires my service. But I am also a poet. And I only write poems for those that I deem worthy of my affection and every form of my deepest positive emotion. Because some things are better left unsaid but are best written. The rain... Continue Reading →

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