I go through these lapses in confidence,
like the waves of the ocean lapping against the shore.
The sun sets and the warmth fades,
I am left with only my thoughts.
This feeling is rooted in my soul,
and is spreading through the unfilled cracks like a wild fire.
It is dark and I am very aware of the bitter cold.
The tree that is my soul cannot grow.
Hello friends, I know I’m not active a lot on my account, but the only reason is because I am extremely insecure about my writing and my writing ability. I know in order to become a good writer is to let people critique your work, but my self-esteem isn’t up to par yet.
However, I am looking to change that. I love writing, and I want to be good at it. I am going to try and be more brave and not worry about what others think.
So allow me to reintroduce myself. My name is Renee Marie, and I am here to write for myself and for you guys, but mostly for myself, because what world would we live in if we lived to please others? Stay tuned for more content.
The cold air devoured the earth we walked on,
leaving the trees bare and the ground frozen and hard.
I clung to you like my warmth depended on it, which in reality, it did.
I could see my breath as I exhaled, your hand clasped mine only tighter as the moisture dissipated in the air.
My lips found yours; they were begging to be warmed up. Pale turned into a throbbing pink as you kissed away the evening.
The wind swirled around my now exposed neck as your tongue traced patterns, making me grip you tighter.
The night was cold but your embrace was warm.
I didn’t know what winter was when I was with you.