These conflicting emotions and thoughts always get the best of me and take control. Sinking their teeth into my brain, releasing their venom so it’s always on my mind. I want to just give up and stop trying to take back control. Just give in completely. Let it all go. I’m so tired of trying to hold on and it’s useless anyway. I may or may not have put up a good fight, but the war was fought and the battle is done. It has won. This is the time to surrender and admit defeat.

Prowriting aid style score: 100%

All those years of being trapped by words unable to hear the birds.
All those years of being suffocated to speak unable to reach the highest peak.
All those years of sitting alone waiting to be grown.
Waiting to break free from what was thought to be rock bottom.
All those years of discomfort and uncertainty led me to today,
Full of triumph and determinedly.

Every morning
I thank the little ray of sunshine inside of me.
The one who believed life could still be something extraordinary.
Even when the brutality of the world was enough to gnaw her up & spew her out.
Even when the cliff was right at her fingertips to end it all.

That little ray of sunshine still chose life
& I’m forever in debt with her.
I owe it to her to make something remarkable & gentle of myself.

On the days I’ve succeeded,
I gently put my hand on my heart
& softly speak the words, “this is for you” to her!

You’ve been my shadow for as long as I can remember, lurking in the corners of my mind, whispering doubt, exhaustion, and fear into every crevice of my soul. You’ve made yourself at home in my thoughts, convincing me that stillness is safety, that failure is inevitable, and that I am nothing without you.

But I see you now. I see how you twist my reflection, how you tangle my dreams in barbed wire, how you drag your fingers through my happiness just to watch it unravel. I hear the lies you tell me—that I’m not good enough, that I’ll never change, that I should just give up. And I won’t pretend your voice isn’t loud. It is. Some days, it’s all I hear.

But guess what? I’m still here. I’m still writing, still fighting, still daring to want more than the prison you’ve tried to build around me. You’ve stolen too many moments, too many dreams, too many days where I could have felt joy but instead felt only your weight pressing down on my chest.

So, I’m making something clear today: You don’t get to win.

I won’t say you’re gone, because I know you’re always lurking. But I will say this—I am learning to live around you, despite you, and in defiance of you. Every time I write, every time I create, every time I move forward even when you’re clawing at my ankles, I am reclaiming myself.

You are not me. You are something I carry, something I battle, but you do not define me.

I do.

And I choose to keep going.

Sincerely,

Me

Can you see the sway of my hips,
how they speak to the beat of these drums?
Can you hear the rhythm—
the language of our silence,
unspoken words rising like smoke?

I build bridges over rivers of oppression,
each step a prayer,
each twirl a testimony.

With the swing of my skirt,
I sweep away the struggles of women like me—
bold, bruised,
but never broken.

We are complex,
layered like rhythms in the night.
Not just survivors,
but storytellers with sacred fire in our feet.

We arrived in chains,
yet even in bondage,
we birthed grace.
White dresses flow—symbols of peace,
clarity,
and the breaking of curses
tied to spirits lost in new lands.

Oh, when I hear that rhythm,
it stirs my soul.
Something ancient rises,
something wild and free.
We dance ‘til the moon forgets to rest—
laughin’, shoutin’,
spinnin’ rebellion into joy.

This is resistance.
This is remembrance.
This is us.
A dance of rebellion is here.

Mary Jane got me ohh so high,
Your genetics done changed my life.
I thank God to this very day, for
Another peaceful night, for word play.
You’ve done evolved my DNA.
Oh how I love your,
Potent indica dominant strains.
Sparks the receptors, as I search
To put these words in place.
Oh how I love your vibrant fragrance.
I love how help me through,
The stressful day’s.
Got neurons flooding
My brain. Looking for and
Connecting different things to say,
You spark my imagination.
Opening up a variation of
Ways. When I was hurt
You helped me innovate.
Had to do this for a special occasion.
Was built off some chronic
Mixed in with a Lil pain.
A different meaning
For “chronic pain”.
Might have to get a prescription
Just to keep me sane.
Had to celebrate your holiday.
Happy 4-20 it’s a special day.

Dear Unsealers,
I wanted to share with you a poem I wrote about Time and how we spend our time. At the end of time, what will others remember? I originally started this piece in 2021 & finished in 2023, Taylor Vance.

We have GOOD times
We have BAD times
We have SAD times
We have MAD times
We have GLAD times
We have HARD times & we have felt like time wasn’t on our side.
We have had times of JOY & we have wished that we could avoid a certain time.
We have FOUGHT at times & CRIED at times
We have HIDDEN at times & SHINED at times
There has been times I wish we never had
There has been times we can never take back
There has been times we will never get back
There has been times we talked shit & times we have been up shits creek. And GOD knows we have never been on TIME!!! But I would never rewind time, for it’s only been a short time we have had together, & it’s only going to get better in due time.
For all the hard times we weathered past, present, or future, as we expected.
For the rest of our time, we will make the best of our time to love one another until we have NO more time, while we wait, our story will continue, so in the end, we know we didn’t make a complete mess of our time.
Now I ask you to take a little time to remember how you use your time. Because all you get in this life is TIME & CHOICES, my advice to you is to be wise with both. At the end of time, we are to have No regrets, No second chances, for there will be No time to look back. Because at that time, when our hourglass has finally run out of sand, we can’t flip it over and start again. So what will the ones we leave behind remember of OUR TIME?
Written by: Taylor Vance 2-2023

I’m exhausted but not that lack of 8 hrs of sleep exhausted.
I’m exhausted from putting peoples needs first.
I’m exhausted from checking in with people that don’t check in with me.
I’m exhausted from putting in the work and everyone else just goes on with life.
I’m exhausted from feeling their emotions and suppressing my own.
I’m exhausted and it’s not from the lack of sleep exhausted.
I want to feel alive.
I want to feel refreshed.
I want to feel my own emotions.
Care for my own needs.
I want to escape the burnt stage of life and capture the awareness of the day.
I’m exhausted from being exhausted!
When will I breathe again?
That is the question!

Let’s go back to those nights of walking the neighborhood.
Of riding our bikes thru that same neighborhood bypassing the “scary” street.
Let’s go back to sitting in front of the TV playing video games til the sun comes up.
Go back to the days of driving around feeling like grown adults.
Let’s go back to those day trips that consist of music blaring thru the speakers. Our voices singing as loud as they can.
Go back to the nights of just us girls & the open road which led us to the unknown.
Let’s go back to those nights in our 20s of just dancing the night away with no cares in the world.
With the only thought of “will it be mimis or dennys” after the night is done.
Let’s go back to girls night in.
Banging drums. Tapping the microphone. & strumming the guitar.
Can we go back and just live for the moment?
For the simplicity.
For the joy.
Can we go back & just enjoy being present?
No rush for the next task.
No responsibilities that will consume our time.
Can we go back & just be?
Let’s go back & see.
Just us three.

Do you not see how strong you are?
How worthy you are?
How loved you are?

All those sleepless nights prepared you for the best sleeps of your life.
Those uncomfortable mirror talks set you up for those beautiful reflection affirmations.
Those in and out acquaintances part of your life were just props to what led you to today.

The most strongest, worthiest, and lovable woman the Universe could have!

Here I thought you were “the one” with what was programmed from within.
Walking life without you seemed so numb at the time.
Breathing different air than you set for sleepless nights.
I’m so glad you were not “the one.”
My programs from within have switched from fantasy to reality.
Walking life without you has defrosted in the most warmest ways.
Breathing different air from you
has given me better nights of sleep.
The weighted blanket type of sleep.
Here I thought you and I would be the forever type.
Boy, was that such hype.
I’m so glad forever was not for this flight.
Here I thought I’d be together with you, the “love of my life.”
Not knowing that love would be with me years after the blue.

I sit with my internal child outside on the stairs, because I know she wants me to.
She giggles so softly.
Her dimples shine so brightly.
She tells me about her day on the playground swing.
We share a bowl of cheetos, the puffs kind.
We make pictures out of the clouds in the sky.
She sees a puppy. I see a pig.
We even forget about the thing of time.
We get lost in the freshness of Spring air.
Dreaming of what the fields of life has in store for us.
I sit with my inner child outside on the stairs because all she wants is individual love.

As Springtime starts to approach,
I feel such a relief of frozeness.
I feel such relief of stillness.
Springtime for me is a time to feel alive.
Feel free.
It’s a time to let warm sensations caress the body.
Springtime is about growth.
About planting those asparagus seeds and watching what comes from those tiny seeds.
From what once was tiny to what will be extraordinary.
Springtime is like a crayon.
Soft.
Gentle.
Full of creativity.
Full of color.
Full of brightness.
Springtime is like a crayon.
Leaving your mark on what once was to something beautiful.
To something magical.
For some, Springtime can be a time of transformation.
A time to use their personal napkin to cleanup what was to make room for what will be.
As Springtime starts to approach, I leave winter with this…
“Thank you for the lessons.
I’m ready for the homework.
I’m ready to put the frost bites of my past in the freezer of yesterday & open the fridge of growth for today.”

** 3 word prompt poem: Asparagus. Crayon
Napkin **

If we’re playing a game of “I believe,”
I’d like to believe there are past versions of me that get together for frozen yogurt.
They all talk about who I once was
And how I’ve hit all those curveballs of life out of the park.
They don’t “boo” the swings.
Yell rude comments.
Or bring up some of the strikes I’ve received.
They meet for frozen yogurt and cheer me on every single day.
During every single game of life played.