White canvas
Black lines
No space for color

White is too bright
Black is not dark enough
Oscillate between the two
Less towards the light
And more towards the dark.

i imagined i
kissed the universe yes i
think it kissed me back

No filter now, no softened glow
Just me, as I am, with room to grow
Each freckle, every mark, a trace
Of all the life within this face

The camera lens once smoothed the lines,
Erased the flaws, rewrote the signs,
But now I look and start to see
A deeper truth that sets me free

The curve of cheeks, the brows soft bend
No need for perfect shots to send
In every flaw there’s something real,
A strength in what I used to conceal.

I’m learning now to see with grace.
The beauty in my unfiltered face.
No need the hide, no fear to show
This is the me that I’ll let grow

Awaking with a crushing weight deep within her chest,
She takes a step, eyelids brimming, fighting for a breath.

Glancing at the empty walls, taunting in their frame,
This unfamiliar place, not home, ignites a quiet flame.

Longing for the warmth of the place she called her own,
Knowing it’s forever gone, reminded she’s alone.

Her heart once bursting, full of laughter and of love,
Never questioning her worth, or if she was enough.

The halls of that home etched with memories galore:
The laughter, the scents, now locked behind a door.

The safety, the love, the comfort she had built,
Gone in a moment, like a radiant flower’s wilt.

Now torn away from the life she knew,
She stands alone with hollow walls,
Unsure if she’ll ever etch joy again through these halls

Stingy echos
The stale air that
Fills my lungs
White noises
Silence is more then welcome
Falling on deaf ears
My howling horizons
Miles apart inside
Boxed in a compartment
Me myself
And I
Who have
I ever been deceived along thee way
Crumbling
Fields of elation
Receding daylight
Constantly over
Thinking day dreaming
Way out of my depths
You rained down
On my parade
From day one
Stripped the armor off
And left me for dead
My tsunami seas
Made me delusional
Navigating life
I couldn’t seem to read
My compass properly
The mirages that lied
That bathed my
Broken spirit in there sands
Like a mothers milk
How could I go without
You stole away my kingdom
And exiled my soul
Where would I be
If you hadn’t
Put me under your spell
The white picket fences
I’ve longed for
Instead replaced by prison bars
Of your imposter syndrome

You're a girl with too much lightning in her veins and not enough kindness for herself.

Too Late
The stage
has all but cleared.
All the souls
have gone home
for that long farewell.

No more matinees to be had;
no encore will echo
through these halls.

(silence)

The curtains,
now drawn with grace,
hang heavy
with dust and hush.
Not a single chair remains,
unforsaken.

(waiting)

Slowly decaying
listening to the
quiet hush
of the theater.

(stillness)

Too late.
The script is completed,
the final bow taken.
Only Silent echoes remain.