She cried,
“Don’t take my mommy.”
But cold hands pulled
love from her grip.
Four walls.
No sky.
No reason.
A heart gone quiet.
A child left
with echoes.
All is lost.

#ice #poetry #poem #loss

I miss him.
His smile,
his laugh.

Does he remember?
Does he see the same moon?

I miss his face,
his hair,
his joy.

Is he loved?
Is he free?

I miss him—
every moment.
I miss him.

#ambiguousloss #poetry #loss

#tiktokrefugees who do you follow to keep up on the daily news? Obviously western media outlets can’t be trusted fully. #question #tiktokban #news

The trees are my only witness—
They see me—entirely.
The wind grazes my edges,
But sways not my certainty

Only the trees move—
Their sway speaks truths untold.
I trust no voice but theirs—
Silent, steady, bold.

#poetry #poem #original

it's becoming abundantly clear that some people have never seen Sister Act 1 or 2 and it's embarrassing. #justaThought #today

Quick break from your regularly scheduled programming: I used to spend most of December as a digital creator for a local company where my boss—who dressed up as an elf for clout—wore pants so tight I spent half my time photoshopping his junk out of photos. Just a reminder: it does get better.

It begins faint—
Your scent nearer than air,
A whisper brushing my lips,
A spark just waiting.
And then—
It becomes all,
The sole necessity.
The world dissolves—
Only your kiss remains.
#poetry #poem

The way they rest—so sure, so kind—
Each stitch a thread with you in mind.
Like every cell within your frame,
Each one alive, a quiet flame.

I love the way they hold you close,
A steady craft that no one knows.
The work they do, the care they show,
All for your body’s gentle glow.
#poetry #poem

Snowflakes dance in the air,
The sun rises, then quickly fades.
The days grow brief,
And rest beckons.
Should I answer the call?

#poetry #poem #original #winter

Our faces meet—
Suspended, near—
While weary lids grow dim.
I drink your breath,
Its fragrant spell—
A tonic, fierce, and thin.

Though air is sparse—
Your essence fills
Each gasp, each fleeting sip.
I’d draw it still—
Forevermore—
From where our bodies grip.

#poetry #poem

Show us the data #dwts this can’t be right. Show us receipts.

Does anyone else feel like #dwts finale was just the election all over again? like what. That was wrong.

No syllable could shape your name—
My Violet—my grace—
The girl with dandelion whispers in her hair,
A wild and fleeting trace.

Like mushrooms, springing soft, unseen,
Your laughter lights the air—
To be your mother, Earth’s gift,
Beyond my soul’s compare.

#poem #poetry

My stem entwines, though sharp and keen,
Between us cuts—a wound unseen;
A space for bloom, a tender call,
Yet resentment rises, thorns in all.

#poem #poetry

In quiet breath, I rise to be
The soul of which I’m destined free—The child within, once steeped in woe, now cradled soft, with mercy's glow. Transform—O self—so pure, so bright, Lift me to my utmost height transform. 

Yes, transform me.

#poetry #poem