In rememberance of my best friend/cousin, Amber Niccole. It’s her birthday month. This is my way of celebrating. Her favorite color was purple, hence the title.

💜💜💜

I saw you yesterday with that purple car.
I told you to stay behind me for a while.
I saw you last night in my dreams
We were back to being kids again
Sitting on that wooden backyard swing.
I saw you today with that purple flower.
I’m not a flower expert
But it did smell like you.
I asked you to sit with me in the sun
And sway with me
To the beat of the song
you’d keep on repeat for fun.
I see you in every day surroundings
Making it hard for me
To keep my composure
During these outings.
I tell you thank you
For the visit.
For the company.
For our day to be together completely
Will of course take place.
Yet until then,
Let’s just continue sitting
Thru these purple days with grace.

Dear Unsealers,

It’s the second Sunday in May.

For a good part of the world, it’s Mother’s Day.

This day can bring up all sorts of emotions. From joy, to sadness and longing. It’s okay to feel all the emotions.

I want to wish my mom, Lauren’s mom and all the mom’s in The Unsealed, a Happy Mother’s Day! I hope it’s a good day.

And now, for a poem marking the day:

On the second Sunday of May
We honor all of the mothers

Mothers-to-be, grandmothers. My friends who are moms.
Aunts, stepmothers, new moms, and pet moms
All motherly figures. Mi mamá

With all the love and grace
For those who have difficulty celebrating this day
And the mothers who are no longer with us

As mothers are the backbone
Of our lives and the world itself

I wouldn’t be who I am if not for my mom
Tenacious, spirited, and kind
I can’t be grateful enough for her

Mothers need to be honored.
On this day, and every day

From me to you, from NYC to the world…
Happy Mother’s Day!

Its the glow that speaks to me.
There was a time this woman
Did not know what that glow was.
Never spoke of such.
Dark clouds.
Black self esteem.
Sabotaging dreams.
Those consumed her days.
Her soul.
Her heart.
This glow that now radiates
Over her body puts the mind at ease.
The body at rest.
The heart in safe mode.
Glowing heart.
Radiating mind.
Healthy body.
All for the little girl
Who did not know what that glow was.

I am not Palestinian.
But I watched the sky collapse through a screen—
a child’s name turned into ash
before the world ever learned to pronounce it.

I don’t speak for them.
I listen.
To lullabies drowned by sirens,
to the hush after impact,
to a silence that roars louder than any flag.

They don’t need my voice.
They need my volume.
So I turned comfort into confrontation,
ink into artillery,
and every poem into a siren that never shuts off.

I was mid-bite,
wrapped in safety,
when the news showed fathers holding dust
where their daughters used to sleep.
I choked on privilege.
Felt rage boil beneath my ribs.

You ask where I stand?
Not neutral—
because neutrality is just cowardice with a clean face.
I chose the ones who bury their children
and still find a way to pray.
I chose the ones
the world keeps trying to silence.

This is not charity.
It’s reckoning.
Because silence is comfort.
And comfort, when others die, is betrayal.

So from a distance,
I send fists full of reverence.
Love with its sleeves rolled.
Truth with no filter, no leash, no apology.

I won’t be the poet
who rhymed for praise
while Palestine screamed in the background.
I’ll be the one who built a stage from my spine,
so their stories could echo louder than mine ever could.

I am not Palestinian.
But I saw.
And now—
the world will too.

I shape, I form, I break.

I learn that the colors I show

need to be changed.

My habits need rearranged.

I mold, I bend, I snap.

All this pressure makes me restless, I think

I need a nap.

I crush under the rock of self hatred I’ve made.

But look at all I’ve gained….

It’s not enough, I need more

I need to be more

Do more

Pile high

And higher

And even higher

Until

And once again, I fade into the darkness.

I may never come out of this emptiness.

Everything feels so impossible today.

And just like it was never there, you look at me and it all fades away.

She’s not a duck
Stop feeding her breadcrumbs.
Give her the food she deserves.
Connection. Communication.
Give her the snacks she craves.
Honesty. Respect. Love.
Give her the desserts she fantasizes.
Intimacy. Intelligence. Stability.
She’s a one in a million soul
With so much potential.
So much aspiration.
So much love.
If only you weren’t addicted to carbs!

In the quiet of the world, I never sought,
But found a softness in you, like a tender thought.

Not in the making, not in the plan—
But in the way you hold me, just as I am.
Like a warm blanket, a gentle embrace,
Where time slows down and hearts find their pace.

Not a house to build, but a feeling to keep,
In the quiet of your love, I fall deep.
It’s the brush of a cheek, the softest kiss,
A quiet promise of eternal bliss.
With every touch, I am made whole,
You are the home that fills my soul.
In you, I’ve found a place to rest,
A love that swaddles me— even when it’s not at it’s best.

Not a journey of seeking, but falling true,
I have found softness in you.

In the warmth of a love that’s tender and kind.
Together we’ve found, not a place, but a way—
A soft, sweet home, where I hope to always stay.

Invite the unsavory versions of you to
the table, angry, bitter, resentful; pour
them tea and settle their queries.

Give each of them grace, they did what
they could with what they knew.

& now that you know what you do, no
longer invite those women to the table;
they no longer serve you.

I have shared all of my parts with you
I have disassembled myself
Piece by piece
My unity, compassion, empathy, sympathy
My sanity
All harvested for your amour propre

I thank you for releasing me
I would have followed you to hell
And yet —
Without sharing my best parts of me with you
I suddenly feel so alive

Do everything you
Feel like is gonna be,
A good time.
Take a chance, don’t worry
About what’s About
To happen next.
Ride the vibe
Chill through the day
Wild’N at night.
Be~U~Til~Full
Because we’re all
BEAUTIFUL!

As I sit on this backyard swing feeling the satisfying Arizona Spring breeze on my face,
I’m confronted by the little girl who loved swings.
Found joy from the schools swings.
Who found safety from the big brown wooden swing at her grandmother’s.
I’m confronted by the little girl
who wished for clarity
while pumping her little feet as fast as she could.
Who wished for love
while gripping the metal handles tightly.
Leaving her tiny palms as red as a tomato.
Who yearned for acceptance
while matching the speed from the other swings.

As I sit on this backyard swing,
I let that little girl know
It’s okay to feel every emotion
While pumping those tiny feet.
While gripping the handlebars so tightly.
While racing for the acceptance from that next swing over.
It’s okay!
I also let her know
she’s okay to let that tight grip go.
I let her know
She doesn’t have to have to pump fast anymore.
I got her.
I let her know
she’s finally accepted by the one person
Who will never let her go.

As I sit on this backyard swing,
I’m no longer confronted by the little girl
Yet, confronted with peace.
With understanding.
With love.
I’m confronted with the best version of myself!

As a child, we crave small talk.
Let’s us be heard for a brief moment.
Until we’re quickly silenced by,
“Go find something to do.”

As an adult, we crave deep conversations.
Small talk annoys us.
We want to know one another on a deeper level.
Time is a valuable thing.
Small talk takes too much of it.

As a child, we ask the most silliest childish questions.
“Why’s the sky blue?”

As adults, we ask the impossible questions.
The cut throat get to know you on a deeper more intimate level questions.
“What has been your most humbling experience?”

As children, we crave small talk.
Adults, we want the impossible.

The young lil girl who fought to wear glasses
Yet loved to help put the butter
In the mixing bowl for those chocolate chip cookies, wrote a book.
The young lil girls hero wrote a book.

* 3 word prompt: Book. Butter. Glasses. *