the ugly writers

Sprocket

I have mastered stitching back my stitches Plastering back my cracks Gluing back as many pieces as I can And I need no one to hand me my tools I need no care to run my machine
the ugly writers

On Love

She's in love, with a man who adores her, cherishes her imperfections, cuddles her on and off. Yet she's afraid to love, to lose
the ugly writers

Open

Today, I am letting you go as I free myself from the phantom bond that binds us.
the ugly writers

Breakdown

Who knows, maybe this crash was unavoidable.  Perhaps the lessons I learned through it have kept me from making more serious mistakes.
the ugly writers

Crimson

There was none on the other end of the line. And I gave up trying. It seems it's over. And I just kept crying. Her pulse grew weaker, her breathing more shallow. Her face, whiter, and her whole body colder. Is this how cold she must have felt?

Time

I am fitness blogger, but I also write poetry on the side. I have never shared my poetry publicly before, but I figured why not. So, here is one of many poems that I’ve written. Thank you for taking the…