{How happy I was / Until I found out that now / I had two right gloves} a poem about the concept of perfectionism.

Holidays bring much more than the gifts under the tree. They bring the sarrow. Heart felt moments to come too.

{But sometimes I wonder / Is it really true / Am I really afraid of you / Or I am I afraid of your memory} a poem about processing trauma.

When movement becomes invisible, we forget we’re still moving. Forgiving the mind and honoring the road behind us shows us how to continue forward with care

A poem about my pregnancy. Often times pregnancy focuses only on the baby and not the mother. It is idealized in social media. Does the love for what you grow come in an instant?

AMIT OR ADDICTION MAKE INDIVIDUALS TRUTHFUL IS A SECOND TITLE FOR THE CONTROVERSIAL MEMOIRS THAT I DRAFTEDE IN 2015. ITS ACTUAL TITLE IS A METH INDUCED TRIBULATION. IT IS A SHORT COLLECTION OF POEMS, INFERENCES, MONOLOGUES, AND HAIKUS WRITTEN FROM 2012 TO 2015. THIS NOTE IS A DRAFT OF THE PAMPLET. ITS USE IS STILL UNDECIDED. IT MAY BE USED TO REMOVE ROCK BOTTOM FROM READERS THAT ARE UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF ILLICIT SUBSTANCES, A GREAT LESSON TO BE LEARN. IT GOES BEYOND THE TYPICAL SOBRIETY PROGRAM AND WAS JUST POETRY IN THE BEGINNING. I HAD NO IDEA HOW EACH PEICE WOULD TAKE EFFECT IN MY LIFE BEFORE IT HAPPENED. TYPOS INCLUDED WITHOUT ENTIRE PROOFREADING AND CORRECTIONS. ONCE AGAIN THIS IS A DRAFT THAT WAS NEVER PUBLISHED!

This is a completely free piece of my work for people to read. I want to share these with the world and those who think no one sees them struggling. This is the type of work I make and I encourage you to Subscribe and follow here for more, because I won't stop here. There will be free ones but after this poem-like-story most of them won't be. Thank you so much for reading, just know; you are seen. People do notice. Things do and will pass.

This is a poem about the ones I am most proud of in the world.... As well as the feeling of accomplishment of my life

This stream is a quiet walk through darkness — not to glorify it, but to understand it. Each poem is a step toward clarity, a lesson learned in silence, and a return to the parts of ourselves we thought we lost.

At some point in life, silence becomes safe. when you don't need to explain yourself, the poem here just describe the feeling.

This a love poem i created from my journal when i was so madly and genuinely in love It was at that moment that i was living on top of the world and inhaling the scent of cherry blossoms as the rest of the world was breathing in regular oxygen

{It's safe to say / That I'd rather be / In a Catch-22 / Than a Catch-23} a poem about how living sometimes feels like a contradiction to itself.

Let Love In Past wounds and scars may shroud our hearts with pain, Blocking out love, the beacon that guides our way. But if we let love in and begin to let go, We’ll learn that love is better if it’s shown. For in the depths of darkness wounds lie deep, Where scars of the past haunt our sleep. But love’s light will shine through the pain, Guiding us through its labyrinth domain. Let go of the anger and let go of the fear, Let’s open our hearts to let love near. For love is the music that carries on. The melody that plays an everlasting song. And in the end, love remains, Transcending through the hurt of all past pain. With love’s embrace, we’ll find our way. And scars of the past will fade away.

Life's been throwing lemons and I've had to make lemonade i have been thru a lot of trials and tribulations with mistakes made and learned from I've been a true blessing so heres the pages of my story

Feelings of unease, despair. Wanting someone you cannot have. Broken heart. Unrequited feelings. Unable to tell her how you really feel. The hidden words you wish you could say.

He wore the sun upon his brow, a crown of gold, a nation’s vow, the Nile moved softly at his feet, its ancient pulse, his heart’s slow beat.

I feel the pull of starlight thinning, a soft unraveling of who I’ve been. The galaxies hum their ancient hymns, and I a single trembling spark listen.

I am the whisper in the meadow, a flick of green in the sunlit seam, born from the hush of morning dew

In the quiet of midnight, When the sky drapes itself In a cloak of shimmering diamonds, I gaze upward and wonder, Each flicker, a heartbeat,

I'm a ghost in your story, lost and unseen, Drifting through the pages, like a forgotten dream. Whispering in the shadows, a haunting melody,