There must be something unseen
woven into your very being.
What else could explain
how, with so much weight,
you still move with such grace?
Like a weightless ballerina on her toes,
dancing across splintering boards,
running amok on the stage—
untouched, unbroken-
At peace

I made a home inside you.
And if fate ever tried to tear my home away,
I would salt the ground beneath my feet
Scorch the sky above me
Engulfing everything in its reach,
Until god themselves returns you to me.

I made a home inside of you.
It holds the pieces of me I don’t want the world to see,
The parts that I swore held no beauty.
But they are safe with you—
The parts that are loud, unforgiving,
The parts that demand.

As we walk hand in hand through these halls,
You teach me to listen,
To let them be.
“What are they really trying to say to me?”
To see. To be seen.

I made a home inside of you.
It holds the fragile pieces I once hid away.
At first, you softened the walls,
As if you knew how much they mattered—
they were seconds away from shattering.
But not today.
No more shoving them in a box.
“These are the things the world deserves to see”
You say.
And as we unpack them,
You remind me of their beauty.

I made a home inside you.
And if fate ever tried to tear my home away,
I would salt the ground beneath my feet
Scorch the sky above me
Engulfing everything in its reach,
Until god themselves returns you to me.

Somewhere tucked on a bookshelf is a book.
Dogeared, yellow pages with a hand written note.

In a box, lie trinkets — gifts, a pendant of Annie, a book mark.
Hand made cards, smudged with time.

An old doll almost intact,
Broken spectacles, pictures, a watch and postcards.

Some may call it clutter, junk —
And it’ll all go when I go.

But to me, they are the reason behind my smile, an odd tear.

More precious than collectibles or art —
They are pieces of my life,
My world and heart.

My girl is made from fire and stardust.
She feels like a child of the wind and the rain,
Her wrath—an unprecedented hurricane.
But love her, speak sweet words to her,
And she is the cool breeze on an extra hot day,
The reason you feel like it might be bearable to go out and play.
She’s a light spring shower,
Covering the earth with blooms,
Bringing it all back to life.

Oh, but don’t you dare stand in her way—
She is divine feminine rage.
The storms before—I swallowed them whole,
And now I’m beginning to see
That maybe all of that was to make sure
She had an unshakable roar.
And oh, is it beautiful to see
That no one will stand in her way.

Her words spill like lava,
As steadfast as a bull,
Yet her heart is still so full.
Sweeter than honey—
Until you challenge her storm,
Until you test her form.

And if you do, just know—
I’ll pray
For you
To make it out alive.
Because you see, my girl is made of stardust and fire—
Two untamable things,
Two forces together, unchained,
Burning, rising—
Unshaken, unbound,
Stretching far above and below the ground.

So think twice before you stand at her door,
If you wish  to endure the unfazed wrath
Of all the women who came before.
She is the storm, the flame, the roar—
A force the world will soon learn
Can never be ignored.