#breakingcycles
I did not rise
like firework light —
loud and desperate
for applause.
I rose
like something ancient.
Like earth shifting.
Like a spine remembering
it was never meant to bend that low.
They thought survival
was the end of me.
Thought silence
would make me small.
Thought time
would erase what they refused to face.
But time
did something else.
It built me.
Brick by broken brick.
Breath by shaking breath.
Lesson by lesson
I never asked to learn.
I stopped asking
to be understood
by people committed
to misunderstanding me.
Stopped shrinking
to fit hands
that only held me
when it suited them.
I rose
the first time I said
“No more.”
I rose
the day I realised
forgiveness does not require
re-entry.
I rose
when I chose peace
over proving.
And now —
I do not beg
to be seen.
I do not bleed
to be believed.
I do not break
to make others comfortable.
I stand.
Not untouched.
Not unscarred.
But unowned.
The girl who once
waited to be rescued
now walks forward
without looking back.
Not because it didn’t hurt —
but because it doesn’t hold her anymore.
I did not just survive.
I rose.
Feb 20
Feb 20, 2026 at 6:14 PM UTC
When the nights were loud
and the house felt hollow,
I almost disappeared
into old patterns,
old promises,
old pain.
I almost believed
I was still that girl
waiting at the window
for someone to come home
and choose me.
But this time —
I stayed.
When the memories rose
like smoke in my lungs,
when my hands shook
with the weight of everything
no one saw —
I stayed.
Not perfectly.
Not bravely.
But deliberately.
I sat with the ache
instead of running from it.
I let the tears fall
without calling myself weak.
I spoke gently
to the child inside me
who still flinches at silence.
And I said,
“I’m here.
I’m not going anywhere.”
There were days
I wanted to fold —
to shrink,
to hand my healing
back to the people
who dropped it.
But I didn’t.
I stayed.
Because leaving myself
was the one habit
I refuse to keep.
And slowly —
quietly —
the ground stopped shaking.
Not because the past vanished.
Not because the hurt erased itself.
But because I chose
to stand.
To stay.
To become
the safety I searched for
in everyone else.
And that’s the part they don’t see —
how powerful it is
to remain
with yourself.
Feb 20
Feb 20, 2026 at 6:11 PM UTC
Will you grow to hate me?
Resent me? Never visit?
I try to do things differently,
but parenting’s hard, isn’t it?
Probably when you’re older,
I’ll know I should’ve been more fun–
but still, I’ll try to fix it.
We can’t say what’s done is done.
You’ll always be my baby,
no matter how old you are.
I love our nighttime lullabies,
my Bodak Yellow little star.
I hope you stay this hard-headed,
independent – slightly mean.
Never giving in to authority
without investigating the whole scene.
Every day I struggle,
and question if I’m right,
but I feel a little better
when you’re sleeping peacefully at night.
I still get good morning kisses,
goodbye hugs, and tantrums thrown‐
the most stubborn, humorous human
I’ve ever got to know.
One day, someday, maybe
we’ll drink coffee or have tea.
You can tell me about your childhood,
and I’ll tell you what you mean to me.
Nov 3, 2025
Nov 3, 2025 at 12:07 PM UTC
He inherited the tightly folded linens,
starched corners, brittle creases,
bleached until they could no longer recall
every harsh argument around the table
that held them.
Every hem had been stitched shut with silence.
Every stain scrubbed until the blood
resembled rust
and flaked away.
I run my fingers along the monogram,
stitched by hands that had swallowed their own fire,
and marvel at the paradox;
how simmering anger can still
make something so delicate.
She embroidered flowers
no one ever named,
roots turned sharp by willful ignorance.
white thread
on white cotton
"elegant" defiance.
You had to tilt it toward the sun
just to see the blooms.
He told me how on Sundays
she laid it on the table,
a weekly treaty,
a wound she dared anyone to set a plate on.
They never noticed, too busy carving the meat.
The white flag was already folded.
The surrender came with matching napkins.
Now he keeps it in a box
lined with cedar
and the scream he keeps folded beneath it.
I tell him:
use them
or burn them,
but never pretend they were clean.
May 20, 2025
May 20, 2025 at 9:05 PM UTC
Do you ever stop to feel the weight,
Of the shadows you cast, the lives you take?
A kingdom built on muffled cries of anguish,
Where trust dissolves, and hope will vanish.
Each stone cemented by love in vain,
A throne of thorns where you stake your claim.
You painted yourself as my guiding light,
A savior who turned my wrongs to right.
With words like honey, you first drew me near,
Promising safety, erasing fear.
But behind the mask, your motives lay,
To take, to drain, to lead astray.
Initially, you showered me with gifts and praise,
A dazzling sun in my darkest days.
With every touch, every glance, you cast a spell,
A tale of love you wove so well.
But beneath the surface, cracks would show,
A fragile facade, a dangerous glow.
Your charm was a weapon, your kindness a snare,
A puppet master feigning care.
You mirrored my dreams, reflected my soul,
Only to shatter it, and take control.
The warnings were whispers I chose to ignore,
Lost in the rush of your grand encore.
You fed me visions of perfect bliss,
Each promise sealed with a fleeting kiss.
Yet shadows lingered in your embrace,
Hints of the darkness I couldn't face.
Your love was a storm dressed as the sky,
A whirlwind of sweetness, a hidden lie.
Now I see through the glittering haze,
The way you trapped me in your maze.
Only three months in, your mask began to slip,
Your words grew sharp, your kindness flipped.
Disrespect for women laced your tone,
A twisted king on a fractured throne.
You spoke of love but mocked my name,
Fueling the fire, stoking the flame.
You spewed gaslighted truths, I questioned my mind;
I was lost in a labyrinth you’d designed.
Every tear was met with disdain,
A cycle of cruelty, a haunting refrain.
Your jokes were daggers cloaked in jest,
Cutting deep where I tried my best.
The gaslight burned, distorting the night,
Leaving me desperate to prove I was right.
I saw the cracks, but you spun the blame,
Turning my fears into a cruel game.
"You're too sensitive," you'd always declare,
As if my pain was yours to compare.
In three short months, the facade fell apart,
Revealing the void where you kept your heart.
I gathered my strength, and decided to break free,
Convinced I deserved more than your cruelty.
I packed up my heart, my shattered resolve,
Thinking this time, the problem’s solved.
But you'd follow with guilt, a masterful art,
Your tears a weapon to pull me apart.
“I need you,” you’d whisper, “I’ll change, you’ll see,”
And again, you knew I’d believe in the fantasy.
The cycle repeated, a toxic refrain,
Hope resurrected, then shattered again.
Though I slipped away, no longer in chains,
You still acted as if I wore your name.
You played my empathy like a violin,
Twisting my kindness to let you back in.
Each time I ran, you’d pull me back tight,
A push and pull, a never-ending fight.
I knew I deserved a love that was pure,
But your deception made my heart unsure.
I truly longed for relief and release,
But your guilt held me captive, stealing my peace.
I lived in your shadow, tethered by lies,
Lost in the storm you brought to my skies.
You bled me dry of my joy and my light,
Draining the self-love that gave me my fight.
I cared for you, and I loved you still,
But never in the way that real love fulfills.
It wasn’t passion, nor hearts set ablaze,
But hope in the man behind your charade.
You never loved me; your heart was a guise,
A tool to secure what your ego prized.
All you wanted was a son to bear,
Your hollow name, your family’s heir.
Your love was a cage, your plans a snare,
A selfish pursuit, devoid of care.
So delusional: You thought I’d marry you and give in to your game;
You thought I'd sacrifice myself to bolster your name.
You saw me as nothing but a willing womb,
A vessel to carry your family’s bloom.
But I was never a pawn in your selfish desire,
I was never a spark to feed your dwindling fire.
You never even cared who, just needed the deed,
A son to fulfill your inherited greed.
How foolish you were to think I’d comply,
To live for your goals, to let myself die.
You underestimated the strength I wield,
A heart unbroken, a soul unconcealed.
Your intellect faltered, your brilliance a fraud,
Revealing a coward, unworthy of laud.
You’ll never trap me; I’ve severed the ties,
Exposing the truth beneath all your lies.
Even without love or a title, you thought I was yours,
Claiming my life, locking all of the doors.
You fancied yourself a god of my fate,
Blind to the strength that would seal your state.
Your narcissism spun its tangled thread,
A throne of delusion inside your head.
But I was never yours; I broke your snare,
A hollow man, left grasping at air.
In those last six months, the truth was clear,
I saw your games and escaped your sphere.
I loved myself more with each step away,
Reclaiming the light you stole each day.
Your name, your touch, no longer define,
The woman I am, this strength is mine.
You sought to trap me, to make me your own,
But I rise unbroken, no longer alone.
I left you behind before the new year began,
To leave you in the past was my final plan.
Now 2025 blooms with self-love and grace,
A future of true love, I’m finally ready to embrace.
Jan 21, 2025
Jan 21, 2025 at 1:19 AM UTC