The time has come,
The sparrow told his mate,
I really hate to go,
But I am already late;
We’ve lived a life so full,
Together so lovingly dear,
I wish that I could always be,
To you forever near;
But we all have to die,
Somehow one lonely day,
Please don’t cry for me,
My love for you will always stay.
Aug 18, 2025
Aug 18, 2025 at 10:03 AM UTC
I was five when my world cracked
Hands that should have kept me safe
Taught me shame before I knew how to spell it.
My innocence stolen before my baby teeth could fall.
At nine, the sky turned black.
I watched my father leave this earth,
not with a goodbye,
but with a silence that still echoes in my bones to today.
I did not know what grief was,
only that I couldn’t find his arms when I needed them most.
My mother’s love was never absent,
but it felt like it was when i was,
Pulled from her warmth
into the house of a woman
whose hands spoke in bruises,
Whose love came with thorns.
I learned to smile with broken teeth,
To speak gently to survive storms
That had my name carved in them.
I stood so still...
At twenty-nine, the ground shook again.
Another thief, this time stealing the voice
I had just begun to reclaim.
Another act I did not ask for,
Another night that left me hollow.
I walked through the fire again,
and this time, I didn’t die
but oooh, how I burned.
But here I am.
Breathing.
Still soft.
Still kind.
Still believing in love.
Still reaching for light
with hands that have known nothing but darkness.
I am not the things that happened to me
I am the voice I kept finding,
even when silence tasted safer.
I am the body I am learning to call home,
even when the world keeps trying to evict me from it.
Every year that I age, I defy death.
Every breath I take, I defy silence.
Every step I walk forward,
I become my own Miracle.
So here is to the girl who learned to raise herself
and to the woman who is no longer apologizing
for how loud she had to cry
to be heard by God.
Happy birthday, my beloved.
You have survived a thousand endings.
And still
You rise.
Aug 7, 2025
Aug 7, 2025 at 6:56 AM UTC
I've let myself get consumed-
Assumed a position in your life never advertised.
Confused, Crazy. Bold, Stupid, or brave.
I am moving like a woman swallowed whole
By the essence of a man.
Your aura reaches across town to comfort me.
In a very loud city, I hear you crystal clear.
For you live in the spaces between my thoughts.
Even your silence is conversation.
Your stillness, confirmation.
You are a manifestation sang by my predecessors.
I have felt you deep in my bones, you mirror my soul
As you move like i do.
Kinda like you, know me sometimes.
Like you are me, sometimes.
Kinda like you are mine at times. Kinda Like......
Like a whisper passed down through women who walked before me.
Like you are for ME.
Aug 4, 2025
Aug 4, 2025 at 10:48 AM UTC
The Cathedral
Through those stained windows to her soul, you see...
when she begats love, she becomes a panacea.
She leans in deep, and gives him her in silence,
gives him her in her sleep.
She will hold his storms with steady grace,
while she wears his burdens on her face.
Her words are not fleeting,
for she speaks in more than fleeing acts.
And she will wait within his shadows,
light in hand — a quiet force that helps him stand.
Her dreams shift to shape his space to fit his skies.
She sees his truth behind his lies, his cries, his rise.
And though she bends, to give much more than she will ever take,
she breaks not — for she is blended and banded tightly to his soul.
Beaming proudly in his predatory strength because she is his…
A place of worship for his prayers.
His resilient reflection, his revered renewal.
His Cathedral.
Jul 15, 2025
Jul 15, 2025 at 7:46 AM UTC
Every living being must be aware of its impending demise.
Or is it just me, —seeing the dead end before we
even get the chance to die?
Lie. Say "I do," see us grow old together to gather that which we will put asunder. I ponder.
A poem comes to me, she said: This world is fragile. It can crumble so easily, but baby, don’t be afraid to take your tongue out and taste it.
All of it: the good, the bad, the limitless hope.
This life will hit you, hard—in the face. Then wait for you to get back up so it can kick you in the stomach.
But getting that wind knocked out of you will remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air.
She is good with words.
Yes—there is hurt, here.
That cant be healed by poetry.
But there is also joy, laughter, and a pinch of happiness.
Unforgetting dreams beyond the ages.
Because these, — Yes, these are the days of our lives.
Where every living being is aware of its impending demise.
Jul 10, 2025
Jul 10, 2025 at 3:11 AM UTC
You are more than I imagined.
Not just the fire, but the warmth after.
The kind that lingers in sheets, in skin, in the spaces between my thoughts.
Your smile, God, your smile.
It didn’t just light-up the room. It slowed time.
It undid every timeline I have doubted if someone like you could be real.
And somehow your hands remembered me.
Like they were just waiting for the shape of my waist, the weight of
my wanting, the hush between my inhale, they had my lips whispering your name like a sacred melody.
I dreamt of you in moments of heat and hunger.
But loving you in the flesh was softer. Wiser,
Like the wild finally located its rhythm.
When we touched, nothing burned, nothing broke. But the old guards fell.
The ghosts of old packed their bags and left our peace.
I no longer guess what your laugh sounds like when you’re half asleep,
Or what your hands feel like when you don’t want to let go.
Now, now...I wake up with your breath tangled in mine and I think:
So, this, This is what home feels like.
Jul 7, 2025
Jul 7, 2025 at 8:25 AM UTC