the two of us together we're straining against our stitches so many coded kisses have been encrypted on our lips { this is where we continue to ponder the absence of all capital letters } This is my second book of poetry, a sequel of sorts to Eyes Full of Skies and A Mouthful of Lies.
they think i'm weird - i know they do it's true, i'm not like them i'm vulnerable, exposed a snail without its shell that's why the place that i feel safest is the inside of my eyelids where no one else can hurt me if i don't let them in { this is where i take capital letters and i watch them soar majestically out the...
Poetry 2017 And if I burn out in a fit of psychosis, remember me as a young god, with that smile made of daggers, even if I was the most dangerous thing you could've touched. Perhaps all that danger comes from the multiple personalities, but all I know is I've got something fucking with me, and it possesses me until...
"one good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain." ~ bob marley verses of notes and chords; an ode to the vividest vice known to man - music. trigger warnings: occasional themes of violent love, angst, self-hatred, and overall dark imagery. more specific warnings included in individual chapters (if any...
"when i cannot see words curling like rings of smoke round me i am in darkness - i am nothing." - virginia woolf, the waves sparks of thought and glimmers of ideas, encapsulated in words. note: some blackout poems are published in here and will be indicated in brackets in the title (although pictures of the original e...
"someday i feel skinnier than all the other kids, "and some days i can't tell if my body belongs to me."
Every poem by F. T. Willz I could find. Some of them are titled by me seeing as they didn't have any titles or dates to use as a chapter name, although every poem is definitely written by F. T. Willz. Enjoy.
mother war, please let us be poor; selfish for love, and boyish for porn. [Poetry #43] [2015-16]
spilling my guts in sharp things and caffeine. hurt me please. i can't do it myself. the guilt is like vomit in my veins. [Poetry #179] [2014-15]
creativity, complexity, chance and chaos. poetry collection 2013-14.
