To find yourself,
You must fall into yourself.
For others, a hard landing is due,
But what you'll find is nothing new.

I fall down, an endless pit,
A spiral deep, where shadows sit.

Dear Adelana Victor Blaqhárt,

I need to make this crystal clear: stay out of my way. The path I’m on is one I’ve carefully crafted, and the vision I have for myself demands no interference—not even from me. I’ve spent enough time second-guessing, doubting, and overthinking. I can no longer afford the luxury of hesitation or the noise of self-imposed limits. So hear this—if you, I, ever attempt to sabotage what we’ve built, if you hesitate when you should leap, or if you take one step back instead of moving forward, I will not forgive you.

You’ve fought too hard to let yourself remain stagnant, to let fear or insecurity hold you back. Do not test me. I’ve been patient, I’ve been understanding, but I’ve had enough of this struggle. I have set goals, I’ve placed myself on a trajectory that demands all of my focus and strength. If you ever even think about derailing that, I will shut you down. There’s no room for doubt, no room for weakness, no space for hesitation. You either rise to meet the person you’ve promised yourself to be, or you get out of your own way. This is no longer a negotiation.

I know you, your brilliance, your creativity, your drive. But I also know your tendencies to question, to overthink, and to stall. The world won’t wait for you to find the courage; it won’t wait for your permission to move forward. So here’s the deal: stay out of your own way, or face the consequences of wasted potential. I won’t tolerate it. We’ve come too far.

From Adelana Victor,
You.

A beauty
with curves
and skin
brown
like the earth
mixed with clay
and her eyes
shaped like big almonds
with eyelashes
like black butterflies
fluttering
on her face
her ******* are milky
her waist
is wide
her hips
are even
with a gap
between her thighs
her lips
are luscious
she kills
with her smile
her gaze
is deadly
her legs
are long
she looks
like a painting
she walks
with grace
her flesh
is glowing
the world
is erased
when she dances
its hyponotizing
when she stops
time freezes
with her playful feet,
and her hands so neat,
she flirts
and teases.

Someone told me
"love looks at decent
ones "

I nodded, sighed, and smirked
but love
made me
like
this

Unleashed my curls
broke my walls
shattered
my people-pleasing
sharpened my poetry
silenced my loud voice
widened my eyes
encouraged my heart
undressed my façade
made me dance naked
in the face of judgement,
sing the songs of truth
and fall in love with
all things wrong
right, left, ugly, beautiful
and gave strength
to the choice that
always stood in the back
but now takes center stage

"Love left me right",
"Love leaving, made me write"
I replied

you are a stranger,
my vessel.

i see you,
stranger,
in the mirror.

and i am another,
taken up residence
in your psyche.

stranger of mine,
i stir in your skull.

To my younger self,
You’re probably skating through the streets,
Wheels humming like a heartbeat,
Lost in the rush of wind and freedom.
Keep that feeling close—it doesn’t fade.
Not everything needs to.
I’m doing okay, believe it or not.
No, I’m not the artist or the adventurer you dreamed of,
But I’ve found a place,
A job that isn’t perfect but offers a path,
Even if it’s not the one we mapped out.
And guess what?
The games still bring joy,
The same crew still laughing, still losing hours
To worlds that feel bigger than this one.
It’s okay to stay young,
To carry the fire of your wild ideas.
There’s no clock chasing you,
No race to be someone else’s version of grown.
Breathe.
Things move forward, even when they hurt.


But now to you, my future self—
I have to confess something.
That comfort I just offered? It’s a half-truth.
Right now, it’s hard.
Harder than I let the past know.
The days blur,
And the nights are loud with questions
I can’t seem to answer.
I want to ask you what to do—
What path to take, what risk to make—
But I already know your answer:
Keep going.
It’s the only advice we’ve ever trusted, isn’t it?
I don’t know what you will look like,
If the years have been kind to your reflection Or just heavier in their weight.
I don’t know where you stand,
What city, what job, what life you’ll claim as your own.
But I do know this:
No matter how lost I feel,
No matter how hard it gets,
I’ll keep trying, keep pushing.
Not for the world,
Not even for the past me
But for you.
So that one day,
You’ll look back and know
I did my best to get us here.
Yours,
The in-between,
The uncertain,
The still-trying.