Writing is my passion, when writing I get to express myself openly and honestly. It’s as if all the emotions in my head and heart, spill out onto the paper without thought or caution. writing is a form of artistic expression that allows me to show mt skill. I get to see the person I am as well as the person I am becoming. My words and thoughts will one day be a book, this I am sure of because writing is not only my passion, but also my purpose.

War
Takes everything from a person
Safety
Loved ones
Home

It strips you bare
Leaves you hollow, echoing
Alone

Watching your home fall in pieces
And all you can do is scream
Watching loved ones slip away
And all you can do is cry

Watching and watching
Feeling and feeling

It takes everything:
Your sense of safety
Your family
The shattered shape of your life

Yet somehow
We still breathe
We mourn. We rise.
We survive.

Perfect
As amazing as that word may sound,
No one truly lives up to it—
Except one person:
Him.

With his clever jokes,
His nerdy facts,
His endless stickers—

He’s unapologetically himself.
So perfect.
So him.
Good at everything.

Ask a question—he’ll know the answer.
Drawing? He can do it.
Music taste?
Uniquely out of the blue—
A song you’ve never heard,
But suddenly love.

He walks into a room,
And somehow, the world gets quieter.
Not because he demands attention—
But because he deserves it.
A calm confidence.
A gentle strength.

He doesn’t try to be impressive—
He just is.
The way he laughs,
Like he means it.

The way he listens,
Like he cares.
Him.
Sweet.
Charming.
Kind.
Gentle.
Smart.
Steady.
Warm.
Real.
Perfect.

And if he ever doubts it—
If he ever wonders who he is to others—
He should know:
To me,
He’s everything.
He’s my perfect boy.

Words were spoken so smoothly.
Conversation was flowing graciously.
Attraction was arousing so maturely.

Until Casper flew in –
Turned the lights out.
Erased every word spoke.
Deleted from existence.

One there lived a town of angel, each one born with their own beautiful pair of wings. However, one of them was different, this angel had wings of gold, each of her feathers were long, fragile, and the light shinned on them as bright as the star in the night sky. Out of admiration, many of the other angel would attack her and rip the wings off her back leaving empty spots and scars where the feathers once were. Although blood would run from these freshly made wounds for a moment and the angle would sear in pain, the others didn’t care for they were too consumed by their own greed and envy. She did fight back but she was only ever able to hold a few of them back at a time.
The poor angel longed for a peace and joy in her life that she feared she may never find. She found herself living for those rare occasions when she could sneak off, slowly flying through the sky’s looking out all places that she could fly to and never return. Most of her years were spent dreaming of leaving but despite her circumstance fear of the unknown kept her from leaving the only home she ever knew. One day after her dreams where haunted by all the bad days, and the countless faces of those who caused her pain and made her bleed. The next morning when the sun rose the angel quickly packed her thinks and hurried to leave her home forever.
With her wings spread wide, the angel jumped as high as she could and see slowly began to fly into the sky. For a few sweet tender moments, the angel began to fell freedom rain, and all her nightmare were coming to an end. The next moment, she felt a large metal chain rape around her neck, choke her and drag her down. She struggled as hard as she could, but four more chains surrounded her, and she becomes overwhelmed. Seconds later she is on the ground and bound down, unable to move.
Her back crushed by the weight of two different people holding her back, a third holding her legs and the fourth one with a sharp rope and proceeded to slice the golden wings clean off the angels back. Everything went black and this poor angel, would become another story of an innocent life shattered over mans twisted greed. While she was left on the ground broken and bleeding, she wasn’t dead, instead she was changed. The angels’ dreams of peace quickly turned into dreams of vengeance and blood-soaked fury. With tears in her eyes and unimaginable pain in her back and arms the angel made her way into an unknown land.
The angel was beaten down, angry, and full of stinging tears. After wondering around for several hours, the angels body gave way and there she fell the ground once more. This time, she had no fight or will power left, so she laid there waiting to die. Suddenly, a shadow came over her, it was a man with eyes white as snow and hair of wool. The man took the broken angel in his and brought her to his home to treat her wounds.
Several days have passed and the angel still finds herself with thoughts of revenge, but she knew she could never return to her home the same way she was before, so asked her hero for his aid once more. “Why do you seek revenge?”, the man asked. The angel sat across from the man and proceed to tell her story. The man was so enraged and hurt for the angel’s pain that he agreed not only to teach her to fight but to give her new wings. The angel was lost by what the man said and stated, “You can’t make me new wings. Once they are cut off, there is no getting them back.”
The man smiled at her saying, “You have so much to learn little one.” From that day on, the man would work teaching the girl fighting skills and how to work on land by day and forging her wings by night. This would go on for almost a year until the girl became fierce enough to take on army alone. On that day, the man ushered her inside his workshop. As the man unveiled the gift to her, the angel stood still with anticipation and curiosity for what was to come next. She didn’t think this was possible.
New wings of silver and steal. Each feather made of blades and were as sharp as the ones she had been training with. These would not only help her fly but serve as her tools for justice. It was a painful process of attacking them to her back as well as learning to control them, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. When the time came for her to return to the sky, angle swore to the man that she would return his kindness and love someday. For it was with him that she would give her last act of kindness she would ever show.
The broken angel slammed onto the ground to the place she once called home, and her mind became filled with the memories and faces of everyone who caused her pain. All of them would soon pay.

I think I’ve spent most of my life trying not to scare people away. Not by being cruel or unkind, but by being Loud. Real. Alive in all the wrong ways.

I say what I feel. I ask too many questions. I care too deeply and too fast. And somewhere along the way, that became a flaw.

Freshman year, he said I didn’t have friends because I was a bitch. And I laughed it off but took it with me like a scar I didn’t know I’d keep. Ten years later, I still wonder if he was right.

I wonder if people leave because I give too much of myself too soon, too honest, too loudly and maybe no one really wants that.

My mother told me to speak up, to never silence myself for the comfort of others. But she didn’t warn me how lonely that would feel. Because the world doesn’t know what to do with a girl who doesn’t flinch when silence stretches and tension thickens. They want small. They want agreeable. They want a quiet “okay” instead of a loud “why?”

So I tried it. I played small. But my tongue smiled through empty conversations and nodded when I wanted to scream. And for what? To sit in rooms full of people who didn’t really see me, just the watered-down version they found easier to love?

That’s not love. That’s convenience.

And still, I keep hoping someone will stay after the first sharp truth after the too-long eye contact after the moment I stop performing and just exist.

I want someone who doesn’t panic when I speak with fire or cry without apology. Someone who doesn’t need me to be less to feel like enough.

I don’t know if that person exists. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop feeling like I have to earn my right to just be. But I know this — shrinking hurts worse than solitude. And I’m tired of apologizing for the sound of my voice.

I’ll go ahead and let them leave. I’ll keep the door open for someone who stays without needing me to disappear.

In the mirror, a stranger stares back with despair,
Eyes searching for answers, but finding none there.
The laughter of youth feels like a distant refrain,
As he grapples with sorrow, heartache and pain.

In dreams he glimpses a life filled with fire,
A heart full of passion, a soul that aspires.
Then reality pulls him in, a heavy cold chain,
As he awakens to the silence, the echoes of disdain.

Every day feels like a loop, worn and frail,
A race with no finish line, where he struggles to prevail.
He ponders his journey, the path that he walks,
As shadows of uncertainty, swirl in his thoughts.

Once vibrant with laughter, his world now feels bare,
His personality has faded, his happiness is rare.
He clings to the memories that slip through his fingers,
The love he once felt, now only lingers.

He watches life pass him, a truly sad sight,
While he remains in the shadows, far from the light.
Just when will he find, the love that he seeks?
His future seems glim, empty and bleak.

Once upon a time in a small town, there lived a young girl named Sammie. Like many teenage girls, she was on a quest to live life to the fullest, navigating the ups and downs of school, friendships, and the complexities of growing up. While she found excitement in her love interests and the support of her friends, there was something that truly captured her heart.

One day, her father decided it was time for her to experience a special ritual he cherished: coffee. “Have a cup of this,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. Sammie stared skeptically at the steaming mug. “What’s this, Dad?” she asked. He chuckled, “It’s coffee! It’s always been my boost to get through the day, and maybe it will help you too.”

Sammie hesitated, expressing her concerns about the taste and whether it was safe. But after some encouragement and reassurance from her father, she decided to take a sip. To her surprise, the rich flavors ignited a spark within her. The warmth of the drink seemed to fuel her spirit in a way she had never experienced before. From that day forward, coffee became a beloved companion in her life.

As she grew older, Sammie shared her newfound passion for coffee with everyone around her—friends, partners, even her doctors. “This is my fuel!” she would exclaim. “I can’t go a day without it!” Each cup stirred her resolve, helping her face challenges with courage and optimism.

However, as with any love, there were critics. Many warned her about the dangers of her dependence, urging her to give it up. They questioned whether it was wise to cling to something that could bring her potential misery. But Sammie stood firm. With unwavering resolve, she looked them in the eyes and said, “I’m not ready to let it go. Whether it’s a necessity or merely an illusion, I love how it makes me feel. The only way to pry this from my hands is if the man upstairs is ready to take me home.”

Sammie’s journey was not just about coffee but about finding what ignited her passion and joy. She learned that life would always present challenges, but it was her attitude and the small joys she embraced that made all the difference. Coffee transformed from a simple drink into a symbol of her boldness and her refusal to let external opinions dictate her happiness.

Through her story, Sammie inspired others to find their own sources of joy, reminding them that it’s okay to love something fiercely, to stand up for what makes them feel alive, and to appreciate the little things that fuel their journey. Coffee was more than just a drink for Sammie; it became a metaphor for embracing life, celebrating passion, and cherishing the moments that bring warmth to our hearts.

In a world where distractions abound and negativity can easily creep in, Sammie’s choice to embrace her love for coffee became a testament to the power of resilience, self-acceptance, and the pursuit of joy in every aspect of life.

In the depths of a sunlit glow,
Numbers dance, putting on a show,
Staring at screens, words in a jumble,
A writer’s mystery, a poetic tumble.

Diving deep in alphabet soup,
I watch my partner in a sunny loop,
Soaking in rays, vitamin C,
While my fur baby lives carefree.

Days drift by with a gentle sigh,
As I sort through thoughts that flutter and fly,
Filling my pages with dreams and schemes,
Preparing for challenges, chasing my dreams.

An unexpected guest, black and white,
Visits my world, a playful sight,
He comes and goes, a brief delight,
Bringing laughter, turning day into night.

In this cozy space where ideas inspire,
I weave my words, my soul’s desire,
Amidst the chaos, a tranquil scene,
In the heart of creation, I find my dream.

Hello everyone out there! I hope everyone has had a safe and blessed month, as we are approaching the next one on the list—hello July! I hope everyone stays safe with the 4th of July coming up soon. What are your plans for that weekend? I’m not sure what I will get into at this time. I’ll probably stay at home and watch our neighbors set off fireworks. This will be our cat’s first 4th of July with us, so we’re hoping he can handle the sound. Our family was mentioning maybe having a cookout where we could set them off at her house, but we don’t know just yet. However, I wanted to say hello and check in with my community family out there. I hope to hear from any of you anytime!

A sudden need to cry—
It overwhelms you,
Rips you apart,
Bleeds you dry,
Breaks your heart.

You fall to the ground.
But it’s the suddenness—
That’s what makes it worse.
It grips your soul,
Won’t let go.

Minutes. Hours. Days.
It hurts.
It’s random.
Relentless.

But you rise.
A support system near.
You break its chains,
Leave it behind—
Alone,
The way it made you feel
All along.

My Greatest What If

I wish I could write to you.
I wish I could tell you the things I’ve done lately—
the small victories, the quiet moments, the ways I’ve grown.
I wish I could talk to you,
just to hear your voice,
even if it came with that fake enthusiasm you used to give me.

In another life, I would’ve taken the risk.
I would’ve chosen you.
Shared my thoughts, my fears, my dreams.
But this world keeps spinning,
and I still can’t spin you out of my mind.

We are connected.
By what, I don’t know.
Maybe our souls just recognize each other.
Maybe we are star-crossed lovers,
meant to feel it,
but never touch it.

I long to reach out to you—
but it’s dangerous.
I long to share my accomplishments,
but I can’t.
It’s as if I serve a life sentence—
one where the silence protects everything and destroys something too.

No matter what happens in this life,
a piece of me will always love you.
You are my greatest what if.

My agrees with Miss Swift-
“2024” was a very cruel, cruel summer…
Though in spite of making sound choices,
Has been made and proved to be so much funner!

A great experience of God’s talents-He gives from on high above,
Was just yesterday, last day gone-yet 1st 7 of 50 books-printed strong love!
An awesome convention by the Sword of the Lord-Walkertown North Carolina,
I wanted to go year after year-But now no PO to block my son clear!
So we both went with great cheer, filled-in-the Spirit while drawling near!
For God said “Do” and He will “Do” the same-with no shame of any tears!

…Only happy ones inside!

The day in Cleveland, so minute far off-Solar Eclipse hit the mark…
Yes, the same time to celebrate 4 years dry-
No alcohol in this body of mine!
T’was April 8th!!!

Also while so hot, yet the water was cool,
Came the baptism of my son-so exceedingly cool!!!
He got a license, he got a car, and a house for to stay-
God has blessed his Obedient way, without any sorrow of the day!

Also for me-my 3rd study course complete,
Finished Application-with only one left to meet!
So soon I’ll be done-steady moving to go on…
Walking with my Gal Wisdom-She to me is so very strong!
It’s simple Love Dear-for the mighty to hear!

Picking any one from all this fun-out of sober memory…
Would be like putting a kid in Charlie’s Chocolate Factory-
And tell him to pick his favorite, very best tastefully…

Yea, I know-Mission Impossible!
But what IS probable here-
Is that “2024” turned out to be…
My very best year!!!

12-18-24

Some assumptions about
Me being careless because
I now, care less, about others opinions.
It’s nobody’s business what I’m doing
Or consuming. Assuming I care,
The lesson you’ll learn. Is be safe
As we leave far from near.
So… Be safe!!! As I drift off into the distance.
It’s just an experience of our existence.
If you care? Be carful, until we meet again.
Our mind carries our memories.
I’ve cared and carried. With some I did it
Carefully.

Dear Unsealers,

I wanted to share something I couldn’t believe happened to me today after struggling for a while without my supplies and my medicine. I was finally able to get out and pick up some supplies, thanks to two special people in my life. I am truly grateful, even though they both can’t handle the humidity like I do. They understood how badly I needed it, and it was a magical moment for me; I still have people who care.

Additionally, I experienced another magical moment that truly topped the prize today. After two years of fighting, struggling, and not wanting to play Smash back and forth, I was finally able to get another phone, thanks to my partner’s idea, my benefit program, and my family for helping me through the process. There was a time when I was able to pay for a phone and cover the card or the bill every month. However, during those two years, I fell into some rough times and had to rely on a lifeline benefit program to stay in touch with people and my medical doctors.

For a while, I didn’t know if it was my software going bad or just the phone aging. It kept freezing and crashing. After collecting enough points on one of my accounts, I was able to pay for a temporary backup phone and then get rid of the other one. Well, boy was I wrong! After a year, for some reason, it started to have the same issues again. Initially, I thought it might be because my storage was too full, the games I was playing, or that people I didn’t know were trying to mess with it without my knowledge. Unfortunately, it only got worse, and lately, I was starting to lose patience with my backup too.

Then, my partner came up with the idea to find another phone so I could say adieu to this one and start over. At first, I thought I wouldn’t be able to, but after I found some help from my family and my medical benefits, I was happy they were willing to assist. The more magic that made this feel real was that initially, I was nervous after filling out and submitting all my information. I didn’t think I would get approved.

However, after I had a fun day with my relatives and my animals, I got home and checked my messages. It turns out one of my struggles finally got resolved. I’m now able to start over with a better phone that I hope will last me a lifetime. I’m so happy that even though the process isn’t fun, I know I still have a safety net in my back pocket in case things don’t work out.

A light shines through the window bright,
As you lie there, lost in the night.
Gazing up at the moon’s soft glow,
“Wow, isn’t it pretty?” you whisper low.

The air so thick, it clings like a dream,
You breathe it in, caught up in the theme.
“Is that what I think?”—a giggle escapes,
Realizing you’re just a bug that shapes.

Oh, how cute are those fireflies’ gleam,
Reflecting memories, like a childhood dream.
A jar in hand, capturing the dance,
Nature’s magic in a fleeting glance.

The sounds of the wild begin to play,
While the magic box whispers night away.
In the cool embrace of this tranquil space,
Our flickering flames find a new grace.

Is nature ready, with arms open wide,
To heal our hearts from the depths inside?
In this tropical paradise, let us weave,
A tapestry of hope—together, we believe.

Loved ones surround me,
Their eyes soft with hope—
Heart-shaped and heavy.
They dream I’ll become
What they never could.

Expectations chain me,
But still, I love them—
How could I not,
When they stand so proud,
Their backs straight with belief?

Yet maybe, in their gaze,
There’s more than weight—
There’s warmth.
And maybe I can become
Not what they were,
But something just as bright.

I’ll rise—not as their echo,
But as their answered prayer.
A voice forged from silence,
A path that’s mine alone.
Carrying their hopes
Not as chains—
But as wings.

Words that cut like glass —
Sharp, unseen.
Expect too little.
Hope for the best.
Treat each wound like all the rest.

They stain your heart,
Make it bleed.
Crack your ribs,
Leave your soul in need.

They break you down —
But still, you rise.
Because in the end,
They’re just words,
Just words.
So treat them that way.

Don’t expect too much.
Expectation is the root of all pain.
And words that cut like glass —
Still shatter just the same.

As I lie among the sighs,
Gnats swarm and flash before my eyes.
Beside me, my cat, a quiet sage,
Absorbing life without a wage.

Humidity wanes as evening falls,
I ponder what the kitchen calls.
“Shall I cook or seek a quick delight?
Avoid the heat, embrace the night?”

How lovely it must be to be
A pet, with meals provided free.
Only giving love, those “motorboat” purrs,
A life of ease, amidst the stir.

The screen glows bright, a familiar sight,
Yet in its glow, there’s little light.
Replaying moments, over again,
Can joy be found in the mundane?

I watch the air conditioner hum,
Working hard, day after day, it’s come.
To shield us from the flames that rise,
I wonder, if it spoke, what wisdom lies?

Who knows the thoughts of one that cools,
Amidst the heat, a silent jewel.
A life like this, a curious blend—
In purrs and sighs, perhaps we mend.

Dear Life,

I feel that I’m about to cry, and no one seems to mind. I know that I’m trying to give it my all, but at what cost? I’ve never had to deal with these things before, but now everything is sinking in more and more. The depression won’t leave, no matter how much I try to escape it. No one wants to listen; no one wants to help. I feel that I can’t stand it anymore—battles back and forth, games being tossed around and no way to prevent them. The pressure builds up inside my head, and there’s no way of ignoring it because it always finds a way of coming back to me when I least expect it. Why are you letting us go through this over and over again? I know you would probably blame my heart, but you are supposed to be protecting me through these difficult situations. Haven’t you been watching, or are you ignoring me too, just like everyone else? I go day by day, waiting for a miracle to happen, but sometimes I wonder if you just want to watch us fail at everything. I must ask: what kind of life is that for us? You see, I’m trying to make it every day, but I feel like I have to stay this way all the time, and you are probably waiting to see when I’m finally going to crash, aren’t you?

Well, I’m sorry you may feel disappointed, but I’m trying to hang in there every day. I’m running out of support, friends, time—you name it. I hardly hear from anyone anymore, just to simply check on me. It feels like everyone has forgotten about me and moved on. Have I been tossed away? Give me a sign—something showing that there is still someone out there who cares about what happens to us. The more you and life close in on me, the more I fear that the skull and crossbones will come soon enough if that’s where we’re heading. I pray that sooner or later you will finally get out of your box and try to make it known that we need help. Please find better people up there who can run our lives better instead of shutting us down, where everything falls apart every time something goes wrong. Unless you are trying to tell us to finally give up and let it go.

Signed,
Your Operator.