Writing helps me clear my head.
The act of grasping for words, trying them out, changing them again and again until you get them right, or until they get YOU right, is a process that I really enjoy.
Poems are not just something we write; sometimes poems write us, and at times we do not even know who we are, until we've seen how we use words to express our thoughts.
All of my poems are reflections of myself, pieces of me that needed to be captured for one reason or another, to be read by myself, by friends or strangers; to be heard and of course, to be understood. more »
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- Stages Of Love By Colors
- Heal Me
- Doubt Kills
- Invisible Dread
- How Could You Love Me?
Comments about Bless Villena
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Edgar Allan Poe
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(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)