I can only write what I see through the eyes of my own. I know that wont be to everyones taste. That’s fine.

I stopped giving too much of a fuck, but when you write and then people abuse you for it. One friend said that I shouldnt write about past things because I should move on, claimed it was lack of maturity, writing poems about the new guy who left.

Except she wrote poems about cheating on her husband. I didnt judge her for that and I never would.

When it comes to heartbreak it seems to be an even more edgy experience once you get older. For some reason as adults its not ok to feel like your hearts been pulled out and twisted thrown to the floor.

Because if you do that means your mentally unwell. (That’s what people around me claimed)

Every time I posted a poem every time I wrote a blog. He would always question, always ask, always get angry. So I had to leave that behind and come here to you.

My new audience.

Hello you lovely bloggers, poets, writers, survivors.

I see the world only through my eyes, and that is the only power I have to share. It’s all I have to offer.