I used to write in cursive spells,
inking truths that tasted like rain
but you turned my poetry into poison,
Chased lines laced with your name.

You kissed me like a metaphor,
complex and dripping wet with heat
but love,
real love,
doesn't require a decoder to speak.

You let me believe I was your muse,
your midnight confession,
your holy place ,
but really,
I was just a page
you planned to burn first right after you hit your game .

I caught the flicker in your eyes,
the kind that you tried to hide
But
Hell nah
that was gasoline
and I just happened to be the match you struck just enough
to watch me glow before I crashed
Yet ....

You etched lies in lullabies,
made betrayal feel like slow jams
smooth,
seductive,
until the bass dropped and
I realized I was dancing to my own delusions

You didnt  just leave me
you left your ghost in the folds of the over lapping pieces that you helped place back in to pieces
Now every time I recite my pain,
your name curls up like the smoke from your smokers
intense and just the flavor on my tongue that I couldn't yet quite grasp

But let this be clear
I was never your charity case .
Or the one that got away
I’m the rewrite.
I’m the ink turned red with every stroke you brush ,
Im the chorus in every rhyme you spit because
I'm really HER
So betray me,
break me,
bleed me on the stage,
and I’ll still spit verses even your opps will replay
because even poison
becomes power
when a poet learns
how to aim.

I am designed as a walking weapon,
No manual, no mercy
just momentum and message.
Steel in my spine, storms in my veins,
I don’t bend, I break chains.

Every threat steps light when they see me,
'Cause I don’t bark I breathe prophecy.
Taught by pain, raised in flame,
Now I carve my name in war’s hall of fame.

I ain’t just pressure
I’m the pulse of the quake,
A silence so loud, it’ll make courage shake.
See, I don’t swing fists, I summon collapse,
And they fall ten times before they can clap back.

Laced with lessons, forged in fire,
I’m the kind of woman your doubt should fear to inspire.
So if you test me, bring all you got
But know that even your shadow gon’ drop.

I’m not the battle, I’m the whole **** war,
The page they rip out and dare not restore.
Built from scars, crowned in grit,
Whoever steps
best believe, they won’t forget it.

I ain’t mad, I’m chosen
but they gon’ feel this shift.
Tried to bury me in silence
'til my prayers started to lift.

This ain't no temper tantrum,
this that holy-woke-up pain,
from a mama who got bruises
but still baptized in the rain.

Don’t tell me to calm down
when I speak what y’all ignore.
I seen love turn into war
right behind a slamming door.

Tatted tears on a canvas,
they think I’m too much flame
but God ain't call me timid,
He called me by my name.

They lied and called it love,
they dipped when life got real,
but I ain't built from fairy tales
I'm built from scars that heal.

I ain't out here seeking vengeance,
I'm out here seeking peace
but if they think I won’t fight for mine,
they best not test this leash.

This rage? Ain’t reckless,
it's disciplined and divine
I learned to bite my tongue
'til blood became my wine.

And I ain't perfect, nah
but I’m standing in my truth.
My babies watch me rise,
so I turn rage into proof.

Proof that broken ain't forever,
proof that hurt don't win
'cause even when I'm shaking,
I choose God again and again.

So no, I won’t stay silent,
and no, I won’t behave.
This fire in me’s righteous
ain’t no soul I need to save...

Except my own.

Let me speak
not from a script,
but from the smoke still clinging to my ribs.
From the silence that raised me,
from the nights I begged God not to let it break me.

I ain’t perfect,
but baby, I’m proof.
That even shattered glass can catch the truth.
That even a girl with dirt on her dreams
can still touch heaven
if she knows what it means.

See, they only see the calm.
Not the war I buried under my palm.
They don’t know I prayed with a cracked voice
and still thanked God like I had a choice.

I didn’t come from love wrapped in lace
I came from survival,
from fire,
from grace.

I walked through things that should’ve left me numb,
but look
I still cry, still love, still rise like the sun.

So when I speak,
I don’t speak to impress.
I speak for the ones who feel too much,
but still settle for less.

I speak for the ones who whisper in the dark
and wish someone could read their heart.

This ain’t performance.
This is a promise.

To the girl still waiting for her father,
to the mom who got clean for her daughter,
to the soul who sees visions in smoke,
but don’t know if it’s healing or just hope

I’m you.
I’ve been there.
Still there.
But I keep climbing air.

So don’t clap for the strength,
clap for the scars.
Clap for the faith it takes
to love with a bruised heart.

I don’t need a crown.
I’ve already been chosen.
By storms that didn’t drown me,
by hands that stayed open.

And maybe I’m still healing,
but every word I bleed
is one less chain
on somebody else’s wings.

So let me speak
not for fame,
but for freedom.
Let me be the voice
you didn’t know you needed
until your soul whispered:
“Me too.”

It’s 1:53 AM, and the silence is cruel,
not the kind that soothes
but the kind that pulls.

The shadows are whispering under the door,
and the walls remember what I tried to ignore.

The clock ticks like footsteps I’m scared to trace,
echoes of ghosts I refused to face.
The bed feels colder than it did before,
like someone left, but I’m not sure who anymore.

The moon don’t visit my window tonight,
just smoke from a memory choking the light.
My heartbeat sounds like a warning bell,
like even my ribs know I’m living in hell.

There’s a scream in my throat I can’t let out,
a storm in my lungs that circles doubt.
And the floorboards creak like they’re mourning too,
for the version of me that never made it through.

It’s 1:53, and the night won’t end,
time’s drunk on pain it won’t let bend.
No prayers left

just questions and smoke,
and a heart that beats just enough not to choke.

I wanna scream,
shout 'til the sky forgets my name,
run so far that the wind can’t catch
the pieces of my shame.

I wanna disappear into nothing,
no titles, no weight on my crown,
just a girl with no past,
no pain to hold her down.

But then I breathe.
One deep inhale of truth.
This ache in my bones?
It’s proof I made it through.

See, I didn’t just survive
I carved a kingdom from my cries,
built pillars out of heartbreak,
and ceilings from my “why?”s.

I stitched my war wounds into banners,
hung them high so I don’t forget,
that every time I wanted to quit,
God whispered, “Not yet.”

I stood alone in rooms
where love should’ve stayed,
but I planted roots anyway
watered by tears I never let show,
and they bloomed into a throne
only I could know.

So when the storm comes
and I’m tempted to run,
I remember I am the thunder
not the one who runs from it,
but the one it runs from.

This rage?
This sorrow?
It fuels the fire under me.
And no matter how hard life claws,
I won't abandon my dynasty.

I am the architect of every stone
the queen of every scar I own
and even when my soul feels weak
my legacy still speaks.

So scream if you must
shout into the dark
run through the silence
just to feel your spark...

But don’t forget
even if your voice shakes
and your crown feels heavy
you didn’t come this far to break,
you came to be legendary.

You say it’s me,
but the silence says more.
When you disappear,
I’m not sure what I’m waiting for.
The phone don’t ring,
your name just fades to gray—
and I’m left wondering
who you’re loving when you stay away.

This month…
this month has torn me down.
I’ve lost more than I thought I could
without making a sound.
My daughters—gone,
because their father plays God in court.
And still, I sit here,
waiting for you like I’m your last resort.

I move with grace,
try not to fall apart.
But when I pour out my soul,
I’m left talking to the dark.
You don’t pick up the phone,
you don’t ask how I’m holding on—
and I’m starting to think
you were never fully gone…

Because maybe you’re still tied
to the past you left undone.
Maybe she still owns a piece
you never meant to run from.
And here I am, loving you
in the middle of my own hell,
while you're loving me
with walls I can’t compel.

I don’t want to be the second choice
to a family you still miss.
I don’t want to be a placeholder
for a love that don’t exist.
I’m breaking, but I’m quiet—
still soft when I could scream.
Still sitting in this story
like I belong inside your dream.

But dreams don’t call back,
and silence don’t explain.
So I keep collecting questions
that echo in my brain.
Why you never show up
when my world starts to cave?
Why I feel so alone
with the one I try to save?

I’m tired, baby.
Not mad—just worn.
I’ve been fighting battles
since the day I was born.
But love ain’t supposed
to feel like I’m begging just to stay.
It’s not me you’re losing—
it’s the chance you threw away.