But what is…

But what is love without laughter?
Without the joyous sound reverberating 
Around and around encapsulating our very beings
But what is love without trust?
Without the capability to enter in blindly
A wholehearted, life altering belief
In someone other than our self
But what is love without feeling?
Without the sensations numbing our fears
The syncopated happiness shared with another
But what is love without freedom?
Without the passions escalating to new optimistic highs
The reverence followed swiftly and without regard.
But what is,,,love?
Fragmented pieces sewn together?
But what is…laughter?
An escape from reality?
But what is…trust?
A fear inducing leap into the unknown?
But what is…freedom?
A fight to understand…life?

RIP Robin Williams. You will be missed. Praying now that you finally have found your freedom.


She ferociously scribbles against the pages
The instrument to paper embossing every word
Etched to inflict permanence.
Permanence of every wound, every thought provoking fear.
Peering through the hair falling around her face
The little gaps in between strands like prison bars
She scribbles.
The pace quickening when solid points can’t be contained
Only slowing down when her thoughts become fragments 
Puzzle like pieces trying to fit together
She inhales a deep breath 
The air filling her lungs, pushing her to feel alive again
The paper moistening from tears 
Shed for the past, shed for the present
Shed for the ever growing distance between herself
And those she holds dear
She ferociously scribbles against the pages
The instrument to paper embossing every word
The syncopated rhythm of thoughts
The little gaps in between strands like prison bars
Falling all around her face
Peering to see the dawning of the truth in her words
The pencil snaps on the last sentence written:
“I can only depend on me.”

Where do we go from here?

Where do we go from here?
These thoughts that became actions
Theses thoughts that became reactions…
Outcomes we never expected
Ones we never wanted to happen
I look into his eyes
I see the reflection of me.
The pain
The sorrow
The once unrequited love we held.
Where do we go from here?
A love once so pure and honest
Has now crumbled into tiny pieces
Of misuse, of dead feelings, of no light…
It wasn’t him
It wasn’t me
It was us…necessarily.
People grow together
People grow apart.
Where do we go from here?
I ask solemnly.
To him
To no one
To anyone that will listen..
The steady sound of his breathing
Of my breathing
The strand of hair that falls from its place
My hand with it’s automatic reach
The electricity that was once there
Fails to ignite its spark.
Where do we go from here?
He catches my hand
Stares at me for an eternity
Closes his eyes…
Yet, I witness the lone one which escapes.
We go forward.
The only way we can go
Not with each other
Not for each other
But for us as individuals
…We go forward.

First Signing Success…One checked off of my bucket list!

So…Philly was pretty amazing. One of my good friends was the perfect host to show me around her home town. Her table was next to mine, my best friend was my assistant, the blog organizing the signing did an amazing job, and well, it was a pretty special intro into the signing authors world. I made some new friends, had my first “fangirl” which was probably one of the coolest things….ever. It was also one of the most humbling experiences, too. Meeting people who so enjoyed words that translated from my thoughts to paper? Crazy. But, crazy AWESOME. I figured I would share some pics from it, too. :)


My table set up, I was SO nervous!

My table set up, I was SO nervous!


A collage of some awesome readers I met <3

A collage of some awesome readers I met <3


All in all, it was such a great opportunity and one of the coolest things I’ve done to date. Maybe they’ll be many more in my future. Gotta keep writing to make it happen :)


Now, on to the second part of my bucket list hoopla. I think you poets will appreciate this! Whilst in Philly, I got to visit and be inside of…Edgar Allen Poe’s house!!!!!!! Yes, you read that correctly, I was in his FREAKING HOUSE. I almost cried I was so excited. He is one of my favorite poets ever. It was so surreal, I went picture happy but also have a little collage of my time there. I will post below :)

All in all, the vacation was exactly what I needed. I am now refreshed and ready to turn out my second novel, then third, and fourth, and well… you know where I’m going with this haha.

Thanks for stopping by :)


Just hanging at Eddy's house...

Just hanging at Eddy’s house…

*Bonus Material*

I also got to visit Eastern State Penitentiary. It was HUGE and kind of creepy but also, really awesome. Philly has some rich and interesting history. In case you’re interested, I did snag a pic of Al Capone’s cell. Now I’m really leaving…

Al Capone's cell. They had it furnished to what it would've looked like when he was there.

Al Capone’s cell. They had it furnished to what it would’ve looked like when he was there.

My First Signing Ever!

Okay, so right before my first signing ever (this weekend in Philly), I’m nervous. Because well, it’s nerve wracking. Exciting, but still nerve wracking, ya know? Does that make sense?

So I’m chatting today with a coworker, I was telling her about my first novel, she wanted to know what it was about. I go to Amazon to copy over the synopsis because that’s SO much easier (i know I know), and come across a review that made me cry. In like the best way possible before one goes to their first signing.

This line is what got me:

“This book is poetry.
It is an insight in your soul.”

It’s the most incredible feeling when people really “get” what you’re trying to put out there. So for this reviewer, whoever you are, I send you my sincerest thanks and am so humbled that you enjoyed my work as much as you did.


P.S. If you want to read the review, you can do it here! —>


In A Perfect World…

I was feeling nostalgic going through some old slam poems I wrote last year…I hope you enjoy! :)



In a perfect world,
We wouldn’t worry about our appearance,
Be drones at a nine to five,
Work to make ends meet
To provide for our children, our families.
In a perfect world,
We wouldn’t be afraid to walk the streets alone,
In fear of being in danger, for being alone.
For worrying about not making it home safely.
Because of the crimes committed every second;
Every day.
In a perfect world,
We would truly love our neighbors as we do ourselves,
Invite them over without fear of being judged—
Being Calculated.
In a perfect world,
We would be able to trust the relationships we are in To know that honesty between you is futile.
Morals, beliefs can be shared.
Heated discussions would be the only form
of violent acts committed against one another.
In a perfect world,
The people we love the most
Would never have to deal with stupid decisions
We made on a whim,
Or because we felt it was right at the time.
In a perfect world,
We would feel free to speak our mind without the fear
Of being politically correct,
Or being the prime example for someone to zero in on.
All of that?
Would be in a perfect world.
But.We do not live in a perfect world.
We live in a world where pain and lies
Are the normal day to day for people.
Where relationships crumble because of the lack of respect
We have for ourselves,
For each other.
Where speaking your mind against the crowd
Leaves you crucified and picked on.
Where being politically correct is the
Main thought you need to have in your mind.
Where the freedom of speech is lost on our culture.
You see, we don’t live in a perfect world,
But it doesn’t need to be perfect.
We make our lives, no matter how insignificant
To the world, to the public,
What we want it to be day in and day out.
We determine what success is to ourselves.
We choose to have the cause to our effect.
We make our lives.
It doesn’t need to be “perfect
It just needs to be perfect for us.
For our little considered victories
For our gage of success and
For the things that make us smile.  ~MLD~