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bracerotygmail-com submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to the world sharing one way your life is blossoming. 3 weeks, 4 days agoWhere My Flowers Grow
taisha Bracero SierraLoss’s burden sometimes makes winter feel endless, spring’s warmth a forgotten memory.
But then I see my children—tiny buds reaching, even when the chill lingers—and I know life awakens.
They are the blossoms I nurture when my heart feels too brittle to bloom. Each giggle and soft embrace are a gentle reminder that beauty grows in unexpected places.
Within me, I carry the strength and love my mother once infused into my very being. Even in the depths of grief, a muted power whispers of growth, perseverance, and the passing on of the light I hold within.
You see, I may not be the radiant flower unfolding in full splendor, but I am the nourishing soil, the steady rain, the gentle earth, in which her legacy takes root.
My boys—they are her masterpieces; each one a fragile bloom stretching toward the sun, transforming my sorrow into the delicate fragrance of hope.
When shadows shroud my reflection, they turn, resilient and tender, toward the light that still warms our days. In every hushed moment, when a soft smile or shared secret fills the silence, I see her—a presence forever etched in the way they laugh, love, and live.
This is where my flowers grow.
Not in the bold fireworks of triumph, but in the tender, persistent unfolding of a love passed down from one generation to the next.
Through them, I discover that even in the long winter of loss, a gentle spring blooms—one that reminds me, no matter how weathered I may feel, there is always beauty nurtured by love.
Voting starts June 19, 2025 12:00am
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Taisha, my babies are my “tiny buds” of life that keep me moving forward even when it feels like winter might last forever. I love how you describe your flowers as a “tender, persistent unfolding of a love passed down from one generation to the next.” You are right that with love, we can truly nurture ourselves and each other. Thank you for sharing!
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Taisha Bracero Sierra responded to a letter in topic Poetry 3 weeks, 4 days ago
Are you familiar with Marianne Williamson s “out deepest fear”? Or Ernest Henley’s “Invictus” ?
I find them comforting when I too, experience feeling burned out from how agreeable of a person I can be at the cost of my own needs. Hope it resonates with you. 💚Add electrolytes to your water and give yourself the hydration you need.details here -
Taisha Bracero Sierra responded to a letter in topic Remembering those we lost/Grief 1 months ago
Awwww thank you so much Kendra!! 💓 have a beautiful day!🌞
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Taisha Bracero Sierra responded to a letter in topic Remembering those we lost/Grief 1 months, 4 weeks ago
Thank you for your kind words. Grief once felt like an open wound—raw, unbearable, and impossible to ignore. But time, though indifferent, has stitched it into a scar. I used to fear it, afraid that showing it meant reopening the pain. But now, I see it as proof of love, of survival, of a bond that even time cannot erase. I carry it not as a mark of loss, but as a testament to the depth of what I had.
Thank you so much for taking the time to read my piece 🙂Add electrolytes to your water and give yourself the hydration you need.details here -
Taisha Bracero Sierra responded to a letter in topic Chasing Your Dreams 1 months, 4 weeks ago
“Has taught me not to fear wire hangers..”
I love that movie. This piece is awesome!Add electrolytes to your water and give yourself the hydration you need.details here -
Taisha Bracero Sierra responded to a letter in topic Write a letter to your fear (Sponsored by ProWritingAid) 2 months, 2 weeks ago
Thank you so much Harper ! 🙏🥰
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Taisha Bracero Sierra responded to a letter in topic Remembering those we lost/Grief 3 months ago
I am so deeply sorry for your loss. No mother should ever have to endure such pain, and my heart goes out to you. Though I don’t know you, I can feel the strength and bravery that resides within you.
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Taisha Bracero Sierra shared a letter in the
Remembering those we lost/Grief group 3 months agoGrief is a Kingdom
Taisha Bracero SierraGrief is a kingdom you never ask to rule.
A place with no stars, no dawn to break.
Endless night.
A place where echoes live longer than voices,
where shadows wear the faces you’ve lost—
but never quite get them right.It crowns you in silence,
wraps its cloak around your ribs,
tightens until your breath comes in fractured whispers.I thought I was ready.
I told myself time was mercy—
that knowing would soften the blow.
But grief doesn’t strike like lightning.
It seeps in slowly, like poison in your veins,
until one day you’re gasping,
and you don’t even remember what air felt like.I try to remember her laugh—
but it’s like chasing smoke.
Somewhere in my mind,
her smile is fading at the edges.
Her voice, just a ghost of a ghost.I keep pictures tucked away in drawers.
I can’t look at them for too long.
Each glance is a wound,
each memory a blade turning slow beneath my ribs.
But without them, she slips further from me.
I am caught between needing to remember
and not being able to survive it.How cruel it is—
to lose her twice.
Once to death, and again to time.My son was born after she left.
A few fractured weeks between his first breath
and the silence she became.
His due date was her birthday.
As if the universe thought irony was a kindness.Since I was 18,
I have been carving out a life with trembling hands,
mistaking silence for strength,
mistaking independence for survival.
But I was wrong.Strength is standing in the ruin
and naming every piece.
It is saying:
This hurt.
This still hurts.
It is learning to breathe in the dark.They don’t tell you how grief is a thief—
how it steals the good with the bad.
How every sweet memory is chased by regret.
How every second of love feels borrowed.
How guilt hangs on your shoulders like a cloak
you can’t remove.I should have stayed longer.
I should have loved louder.
I should have grown up faster,
instead of pretending I had all the time in the world.I still don’t know how to carry this.
Most days, I bury it beneath busy hands and silence.
But it always finds me—
in the quiet, in the stillness,
in the moments when her name rises to my lips
but never makes it past my teeth.Grief is a kingdom,
and I am its prisoner.
There are no windows, no keys, no doors.
Only the ghosts of what could have been
and the weight of everything I didn’t say.And yet somehow,
even in this shadowland,
I am still searching for light.Add electrolytes to your water and give yourself the hydration you need.details here-
Taisha, this poem makes my heart ache for you. Grief over losing someone you love never truly goes away, it just lessens with time. My favorite stanza is “How cruel it is—to lose her twice. Once to death, and again to time.” As time passes, our memories fade whether we want them to or not. I hope that you continue searching for light and FIND i…read more
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Thank you for your kind words. Grief once felt like an open wound—raw, unbearable, and impossible to ignore. But time, though indifferent, has stitched it into a scar. I used to fear it, afraid that showing it meant reopening the pain. But now, I see it as proof of love, of survival, of a bond that even time cannot erase. I carry it not as a m…read more
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Wow. I can not even begin to tell you how beautiful and moving this is.
My deepest condolences for the loss you endured.
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Awwww thank you so much Kendra!! 💓 have a beautiful day!🌞
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Taisha Bracero Sierra responded to a letter in topic Poetry 3 months ago
Aww!! Thank you so much Lauren! I was hesitant about posting this one, but knowing others liked it, makes me happy I did. (:
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Taisha Bracero Sierra shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months agoTo the ones who never got their first love
Taisha Bracero SierraThere are love stories written in trembling hands,
inked in the quiver of first kisses,
sealed in the breathless hush of two souls colliding,
and I have read them all.I have listened to the whispered nostalgia
of friends tracing their heartbreaks like constellations,
each one a wound they wear with pride—
because at least they got to bleed for something.
At least they got to hold love in their hands,
even if it crumbled like ash.But where is the story for the ones who never got their first love?
The ones who sat in the audience,
watching the grand performance of devotion,
but never once felt the warmth of the stage lights?
Where is the song for the girl who has never been sung about?I am that girl.
The one who was never the frantic “I can’t live without you.”
Never the name whispered in the dark to calm a racing heart.
Never the soft morning gaze of someone who sees the rest of their life in my eyes.And it hurts.
God, it hurts.To know that someone once ached for him,
that he has been loved in a way I never will be.
That he has a past where he was the sun,
while I am left wondering if I am even a flickering candle.And I tell myself maybe love is coming.
Maybe one day, someone will look at me
the way poets describe—
with hunger, with reverence, with trembling hands reaching for something sacred.But what if they don’t?
What if I am the space between heartbeats,
the silence between love songs,
the person who is always there but never the one?What if I leave this world having never been
the reason someone couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep,
couldn’t breathe without saying my name?What if I die and the world keeps turning,
unmoved by the absence of someone
who was never truly held?And maybe that’s the part that breaks me the most.
Not just that I have never been adored,
but that I don’t know if I ever will be.Add electrolytes to your water and give yourself the hydration you need.details here-
Aww Taisha, This is so beautiful and so relatable. I bet you you are that someone to someone, but just maybe you overlooked them. Keep your eyes and heart open. Sending hugs. I am going to feature this piece in our newsletter tomorrow. <3 Lauren
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Aww!! Thank you so much Lauren! I was hesitant about posting this one, but knowing others liked it, makes me happy I did. (:
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bracerotygmail-com submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to your fear (Sponsored by ProWritingAid) 3 months agoDear Fear,
Taisha Bracero SierraI feel you. I carry you in the pit of my stomach, in the depths of my mind, in the restless nights and the silent moments when it’s just me and the weight of everything I’ve been and everything I fear I’ll never be. You are the shadow that clings to me, whispering truths I am too afraid to face and lies I am too willing to believe. You terrify me because you are not just about not knowing—you are about what I already see in myself.
You are the fear that I will wake up one day and realize life passed me by while I was too busy blaming everything and everyone else. That I will see my potential in ruins, my fingerprints on every broken piece, and realize the same hands that could have built something beautiful were the ones that tore it down. You remind me that the people who hurt me have moved on, built lives, succeeded—while I stayed behind, willingly bound by the chains of their actions and my own self-sabotage. You force me to confront the possibility that I have been my greatest enemy, betraying the little girl I once was when she needed me the most.
You make me wonder if I am worthy-if my children will look up to me, will I ever be someone my sisters can be proud of? Someone I can be proud of? You haunt me with the thought of my children looking at me, disappointed, and saying the words I already tell myself in the quiet moments: that I failed. I let life slip through my fingers-allowing my pain to define me instead of fighting for the life I deserve.
Fear, here’s what I need you to know: I hear you, but I will not let you win.
Yes, I have made mistakes and blamed others when I should have taken responsibility. Yes, I have hurt myself in ways no one else could—by not standing up for the little girl who needed someone to protect her, to love her, to believe in her-But I am still here. Still capable of change, and the ability to rewrite the story I have been telling myself. And that little girl? She is still inside me. She is waiting, not with anger or judgment, but with hope—hope that I will finally show up for her the way no one else ever did. To fight for her, love her, and honor her pain by refusing to let it be what defines her.
You are my fear of wasted potential, but you are also a reminder that I still have it. If I didn’t, you wouldn’t exist. You wouldn’t hold so much power over me. The fear of failing is proof that I still care. It means I still have something worth fighting for.
So, Fear, I see you. I feel you. I acknowledge you. But I will not let you dictate my life. I will stumble, and I will fall. I will make mistakes, but I will get up. I will try—and I will keep trying until I become the person my children, my sisters, and that little girl inside me can be proud of. Not because I am perfect, but because I never gave up on myself.
Thank you for reminding me of what’s at stake. Now watch me prove you wrong.
Sincerely,
Me
(100% style score)
Voting is closed
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YES, Taisha! I love, love, love this so much!! I’m obsessed with your description of fear “reminding me of what’s at stake.” Fear can bring out the worst in us but sometimes we need that to remind us of what we are truly worthy of. Keep pushing through the fear, you WILL prove it wrong!! ♥♥
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Thank you so much Harper ! 🙏🥰
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