Earth, she is the ground that holds me. The foundation that my walls are built on. The only explanation to how the structure stands through every storm. She is the nutrient for everything that manifests within me. Without earth, nothing would grow.

Air, she is the filler of my lungs. She is clean, but can be dirty. She is everywhere, but sometimes absent. What she gives, she can also take away. Without air, nothing would survive.

Water, she is fluid. She moves in every direction, without a compass, always reaches her destination. She can save a life in a moment, and take a life in an instant. She is compassionate, she is a healer, she is unstoppable. But without water, nothing would live.

Fire, she is furious. She is fierce. There is nothing soft in her nature. You will run, but you will not escape. Everything she touches, she destroys. When the spark is lit, she can consume your life in a matter of moments. She leaves nothing in her path but ashes as evidence. But even some fires are left burning, because after fire, everything is new.


Designated Drunk Driver

Her most artistic moments are under the influence. That’s probably why she relies on the uninfluanced. To write her biggest story when she couldn’t do it. It’s just the truth to it.

Finding comfort in the haze she puts on the happy face. Doesn’t care what people say because it’s just another day. She keeps planning to be bolder, sober, somehow falls astray.

Everyday she says tomorrow. Makes excuses for the bottle. In her family’s eyes is sorrow. Will she find what she was looking for? Stay tuned for what’s to follow.

Children like us

She smiled. But not because she was happy or amused but because she knew the mask she wore was perfect, and that strangers wouldn’t have a clue. Children like us grew up way before we should have had to.

From drug addict mothers and clueless fathers and broken homes and old clothes and never wondering how it feels to be tucked in, cause we were only concerned with where our next meal is.

Children like us never asked for much. Our parents never taught us trust or showed us love. But they sure as hell made us tough. They broke us down, we built ourselves up. We taught ourselves how to rise above.

At her young age she hoped and searched and prayed to find someone on the same page. Someone to relate. Someone who knew what it felt like to never have been saved. Until one day she recognized her pain in a similar face.

She smiled. Not because she was happy or amused but because she knew this stranger had a struggle too. We grew up way before children our age had to. We are the few who truly understand there is no “try” we can only “do”. She thought she was alone but now there are two.


Born fearless with a mission – to a lost soul with clouded vision.

I’m afraid, but only of irrational things like clowns and groups of children that look like brats, and rats, and stained clothing and painfully unloading -my feelings.

I’m afraid, but only of things that don’t actually exist. Like the boogeyman and slenderman and my brothers ghost. Or the memory of my first kiss. Or happiness, whatever that is. Or having to be the host -of anyone’s entertainment.

I’m afraid, but of things you can’t rationalize being afraid of, like bad grammar, and not being able to recite the alphabet backwards, and fish and never being a fan of – star wars.

I’m afraid, of being too self aware. And over thinking. And having to match everything I wear. And never being understood. Fast food. And bad moods. And bad hair. And never really being cared -for.

I’m afraid, but I have no problem jumping out of planes. And taking the blame. And driving insane. And being lame. And tame. And fighting, to be the biggest pain in your life And never knowing when I’m -wrong.

And I don’t know- how, or why or when or where I became so afraid of so many things. Like never being enough. Or always being too much. Never understanding fluff. Or being able to call a bluff. I created this life just to prove I’m tough.