Why Do I Write

I write to release stress caused by events happening around me. It’s the only way to explain myself and the reason why I feel the way I do. I started Writing in Sixth grade and continued then made a blog. Let’s my writing is good, just not good enough yet! I let the words flow right out me and it becomes words that make me who I am. I will never give up writing, I don’t think I can. I hope I get heard by being more descriptive in some of my writing.


Fight Until the End of Day

Call me a women who has strength and put you in your place with no restraint. I’ve been through things more than you know, it was so much that I had to show……I am more than an individual that makes mistakes and calls you out when your acting fake. I will prove a point that will help me in the future, I can silence the things that hiss in my head the snakes of Medusa. I will come upon opportunities that will come my way, fight until the end of day. I would play around to make it look funny, but now I understand that I looked like a straight dummy. I tried to please the people around me and forgot about by dreams. Dreams where I could be seen. Thinking I didn’t need help, I rather show off. I was being myself. Later on I showed you I wasn’t a toy, I couldn’t be pushed around……not even by boys. I stand straight and tall, you’ll never make me fall. I will keep Fighting, fighting until the end of day. Take a moment to think of how someone would sink, sink in their own disbelief or bad actions. What would you say, what would you do, how could you pull someone through? We can all fight to make the world better. We can make it a peaceful home for the generations after. I can say I will do it, but it takes more than words to show it. We can prove that we can do more than we always do. When all is done, and we made a better day. We have proven that we fought………Fought until the end of day.

~Poetic Me

My Pain

My pain is held under my skin down in my heart

A pain that covers me at night when I least expect it.

It makes my heart drop to my stomach without hesitation.

I carry it through a smile or in my eyes.

A gray and black feeling takes over me.

I feel strapped down with words of depression

Dancing around me.


Only if love could conquer it.

Only if joy could fill my heart.

Only if happiness would flow through my smile.

To hard to conquer……………..

Running or Flying

A sheet of black pavement that curves in many different ways, leads me to a place where I sleep. My feet carry me down the pavement and never to be seen again. Looking back at a house that could of been a home, but the struggle was too strong. Sprinting down that pavement, I know you’ll miss me so. Hang up my face on light poles for the public to see. Have teams of flashlights shine every dark pit to see my face appear. 

You count the hours and shake your leg with worry, hoping something good will turn out. Days pass by and the strength of fear takes over you. I walk around, unseen by everyone and walk pass a house that used to be mine. You’re not there, emptiness fills the inside of me. Tears fall from my eyes. I have nowhere to go. But I don’t want a home filled with nothing but arguments of petty things. I think of a home with white pearly gates and there’s angels that comfort you. Nothing but pureness. Thoughts run through my mind, it’s undecidable. I can’t leave nor stay and feel trapped. Words of encouragement leave me with a positive mind only for a second it seems. A playback of those words wouldn’t help at all.

I’m tired………… as a thirteen year-old I shouldn’t be tired. My mind nor soul can’t take anymore of what happens to or around me. It wouldn’t change if I had the power to change it. The feelings I hide I eventually show, others hide the pain and pretend everything is fine. It’s not. Grudges will crush you emotionally. I have that grudge of running or flying away.

I will run until my feet wear away

or fly away to a white dream cloud

Run an amount of steps

Breath my last breath.



When it rains,

the sky turns gray,

thunder fill our ears, 

we are creating a colorful crowd of umbrellas,

drops of rain run down buildings,

we walk in to puddles,

also with colorful rain boots.


by my best friend 










Never feel that it can only stop hurting, if you kill yourself. Why I tell you, is because I felt the same way before. An eleven year-old thinking the most horrifying thing. As the knife is in my hand, I hear a voice in my head refusing to let me. Suffering with the pain inside me. The aching pain. It felt as if the knife had already been plunged into my chest. I kneel down as the puddle of my pain is sitting on the floor in front of me, I just couldn’t seem to bare the reason why I couldn’t leave. Sitting on the cold floor drowning in my pain. What should I do now? Until enchanting memories came to mind, changing my perspective on life. Wanting to change the way I am. Looking into my future and knowing that it will be fine, I returned the knife to the drawer. The pain had been wiped away along with the tears. The weight of pain had been lifted off my chest and into the sky. I never noticed that my love for life was so strong. Never think the worst of life. Smile. You may never get to.