Poem of the Week - August 20th



I'm left with petals in my hand

I'm left with my shattered heart in my throat

choking on the pieces everytime I say:

                               I love you

it cuts my tongue

i bleed for you, 

i would suffer for you, 

i grabbed the sunrise and

put it in a jar to give you

so every morning you would awake to the warm rays kissing your skin,  so even when I'm not there to write sweet love notes upon your skin you could still open to the magic touch of my stardust illuminating your veins, 

to remind you the darkness that seeps into your mind, never will swallow you - there is hope even in the darkest of nights, 

i will be your North Star,

follow me home.

but instead you scoffed at my soul, and how it burned for you, you didn't like the blue hues that showed in the sky, the warm yellows that hit your irises, the electricity that hit your body with one kiss.  

I never was bright enough for you to feel full, every word I spoke, every touch I made was never what you wanted. 

you began to look for another stars hues. One full of minutes and seconds, a flower already bloomed, with both hands-on you. 

you took my worth and dimmed my eyes

you took my worth and covered me in dirt 

taking my name and burying it with weeds, with vulgarity as you smirked at the wound that began to open on my chest, 

suffocating any ounce of light I try to emit for you,

you carved out my love with your piercing words from my cavity and swallowed my heart leaving me bleeding out on the floor,

i begging you to 'please just take my hand, take me for who I am, each and every day,' 

using your tongue to break my delicate petals

to build yourself up,

as you hold me underneath the muddy water, while you breathe in the summer air, 

to feel like the sun to proudly walk around showing others a fake facade of the story you left

as the girl you abandoned from the toxic ways of your mind lays unable to breathe the saltwater sea, 

the type of light you give isn't one to help me grow, 

you burned the best parts of me

I'm left with petals in my hand,

I'm left with my chest cut open,

I'm left with your love letters and the ink bleeding off the pages,

unable to see the way you believed in us 

I keep rewatching you take the parts of me you wanted, leaving the rest

of broken promises and 'i love you always' buried in the truth of 

i was never enough for you. 

You destroyed me with your anger, the violent way you live

covering your wounds with a poem of 'the truth hurts,' when the only truth is: 

you never wanted this light to bring you home. 





Misunderstood Hearts.

"My book is meant to be imperfect."
Love Letters in the Wall: Agapé Edition
By Demetra Demi Gregorakis

Sitting and reflecting about what I put out in the universe. I'm proud of this. Ask yourself if what you are putting in the universe, is it kind? Do you think of people with feelings? 🌻 ✨🌎

People will not all understand my poetry or my choices, my grammar or my punctuations in this book. But all I can do is put my words out and let people do what they must. I'm not perfect, I'm human. I hope the words make you feel - and that's all I can do.

This is a journal of my thoughts, of insomnia at 2 am, taken from my journal transcribed into a book. It's meant to be imperfect. It's meant to be real. It's meant to help people feel, to heal.  It's my art. 

One thing I learned publishing my work and posting online - is I had to grow a super tough skin, no matter what I do, someone will be a critic, but I will do what I love regardless - and that is writing, that is poetry, that is putting my heart out for people to use. 

Read from a new perspective, dissect, ask questions- interpret, that's what poetry is about. 

Hate it, love it, thanks for reading it



My Book Is Here.

A piece of my heart and soul are now in the universe. 

Love Letters in the Wall: Agapé Edition
By Demetra Demi Gregorakis

A journey, would be an understatement of what it took to create this. 

‘Love Letters In The Wall: Agapé Edition’, is in the universe 🌻 5 years in the making. I have been crying, smiling, scared, excited, and nauseous. I started this journey as a wilted sunflower, with no petals. I started this journey as a girl who thought she knew what love was. I was broken.  You will be holding my heart in your hands, and nothing gives me more anxiety, feeling so exposed, opening parts of my heart for people to read. But I do it for one reason: I write because there is nothing more beautiful than the human experience connecting with another. I write because it’s my passion,  my words go out into the universe and knowing that some soul can feel a sense of relief or a glimmer of hope from my words keeps me writing and dreaming that I can add some kind of healing, comfort, and kindness to this crazy world. As my girl Meryl Streep said, “take your broken heart, make it into art”. Thats what I did - here I am years later, a sunflower blooming.

It's truly a dream come true, and the dream is just beginning. So many things to accomplish, but for now - I hold my book by my heart and I'm thankful that this dream came to light. 

Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading supporting and sharing my words - my heart is full, I can't think you enough. Th

Send me a love letter if you have any questions! Purchase on Amazon, in stores soon!