I create a series of reflective posts titled "Oracle of the Day," in addition to crafting poems and working on a book. These creative endeavors serve as a vital outlet for me, allowing me to channel my thoughts and emotions as I navigate my journey with BPD. Being transparent about my mental health challenges is something I value deeply. Living with mental illness can often feel overwhelming and unpredictable. However, by sharing my experiences and insights through writing, I not only find solace and clarity for myself, but I also hope to reach others. Thank you

longing with uncertainty for an estranged identity within myself, aching for a graceful return though its banishment was imposed.

my poem of a fragmented, incantatory piece tracing the fool’s dance on the edge of self-destruction, referencing tarot archetypes and an exploration into the rawness of identity and turmoil.

The Bear Tooth Highway is one of the most beautiful places in Montana. The highway winds its way up and down the mountain in tight corners and steep cliffs. With powerful rushing rivers and gentle lakes, it takes your breath away. The mountain is also filled with wildflowers, wild animals, and plenty of jagged, rugged mountains. Its splendor and majesty will not disappoint.

Mom, I know you loved me, even if it didn’t always feel soft or safe. You gave what you could, but I needed more—comfort, emotional connection, and to feel held without having to earn it. Now that I’m a mom, I see how easy it is to repeat what we grew up with. But I’m choosing differently—not out of blame, but out of love. I want my kids to feel seen and safe in ways I didn’t always. This isn’t about rewriting the past—it’s about healing it, for me, for them, and maybe even a little for you.

and life stays in a constant cycle that no one appreciates, dreaded the person goes, and the next to have them doesnt appreciate their “world” toasters pop bread, and people leave but i hope i dont ever lose you because i wouldnt want my electricity as a toaster, and my heartbeat as a human

When will I ever be good enough for anybody? For my friends, for my family? But mostly for myself. When will I ever say or do the “right” thing?

“Healing is a Spiritual Journey” is a poem born from the sacred spaces between pain and peace. It explores the tender, often unseen path we walk when we choose to face our wounds with grace. Healing isn’t linear—it’s layered, deeply personal, and often spiritual. Through each verse, I wanted to express how healing calls us inward: to reconnect with our spirit, reclaim our voice, and rediscover our worth. This poem is a reminder that even in our most broken places, there is light—and that light lives within us.

A lovely night under the sun, can’t beat how many times you beat your meat, just for me to come home and I say ‘no’ to you. If it will be, then let matters be.

To wonder in the fields, because trying again feels like we might make it this time. And quite there is no destination, however. And yet there are sown touching wonderment in all pathways.

There’s this girl who’s scared to love again. A girl who was hurt in her part relationship. A girl who doesn’t trust anyone again. However, a guy…. A guy came and loved her slowly.

Friendship or more? Perhaps, perhaps not. This one took about two hours. From midnight until 2:19am. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

A raw look at the exhaustion of motherhood—where the days blur, rest is rare, and you’re always needed, never done. This poem captures the weight of it all with striking honesty.

When a woman finally understands her worth. When she can finally pay no mind to what people's opinions of her are.

My emotions poured into the very first poem I’ve written. It’s personal, but some people need to see they’re not alone.

This poem is about a girl struggling to figure out what makes her father happy. Dhe had do many emotions she would like to say to him but doesn't know how.

Religious or not Religious? Nature, beauty, life, whats not to sit and ponder? Deep down, stare filled with wonder!

A gripping exploration of deception and betrayal lurking beneath the surface of a fractured society, where true enemies hide in plain sight and the fight for truth is more urgent than ever.

This is a poem I wrote about the last days I had with my partner of eleven years before he passed away. I wrote this poem for a college level creative writing course I took online. This poem deals with death of a loved one, regrets about my last interactions with him, mean-spirited arguments we had in the days leading up to his death from congestive heart failure in August of 2018.

Evil never portrays a laugh, a smirk, or a smile. It blinks you in eye, smacks your lips, and stuffs your nose. One way out is to believe there is one.