Self reflecting with two
fingers up. Projecting peace,
A double entendre.
Happy, with a joyful smile
Showing my teeth.
With the acception of
A Farwell to the past versions of me.

Dear Music,

You have been my first love, my most loyal companion, and my greatest storyteller. Before I even knew how to express myself fully, you spoke for me. You carried my joy, my pain, my anger, and my healing in melodies, in beats, in lyrics that felt like they were written just for me.
When the world felt too loud, you gave me rhythm. When silence was too heavy, you filled it with sound. You have never judged me for how I felt-you simply embraced me, wrapped me in harmonies, and let me be.
You have been my bridge to places I have never been, to people I have never met. You break barriers, crossing languages and cultures, bringing souls together in a way nothing else can. Through you, strangers have become family, and stories have been passed down like sacred traditions.
Whether I was dancing in joy, drowning in sorrow, or standing in quiet reflection, you have always been there. Guiding me. Holding me. Reminding me that I am not alone.
Thank you for your presence in every stage of my life. For being my escape, my therapy, my celebration. Thank you for giving me the courage to tell my own stories. I will always love you. I will always need you.

Forever Yours,
AmbitiousBMarie

Dear Unsealers,
It’s the first day of March.

January took a century to go by. February passed through quickly.
March is a month of transition.

As the clocks will turn ahead an hour in a week. More daylight on the commute home from work.
The countdown to Easter begins. The Lenten season begins on Ash Wednesday.

A month that honors women, and brings cerebral palsy to the forefront. And a moment marking five years since the world as we knew it was upended.

March is a month when the seasons begin to change. It begins in the last days of winter and comes to a close at the start of spring.

All in thirty-one days.

As with every month, a welcome in verse:

March
Month number three, in 2025

The month comes in like a lion
As winter’s chill and hints of spring trade days

Thirty-one days lie ahead.
A season of transition

From clocks moving ahead
Equal hours of night and day

A month of solemnity
The countdown to Easter begins.

It’s also Cerebral Palsy Awareness Month.
And five years since the Awakening

The month goes out like a lamb
As the first blooms arrive

Some of us worry about
“Certain features”,
We go through “desperate measures”.
To provide some type of pleasure.
We’re Constantly under pressure,
Fighting with gravity.
We are searching and looking
Browsing at eye candy,
Looks are appealing, but
To get a taste.
You might Unwrap other
Feelings!
Revealing the mind is
So divine,
Sometimes it’s quiet and unspoken,
Then sometimes it’s loud!
When it’s provoken,
Soo, maybe….it’s better to
Leave it unopened.
The power of emotions, blows up!
Some atomic fluids flowing. Now,
We’re chemically influenced.

Life has a way of forcing you into stillness. When everything around you crumbles, when the weight of the world feels unbearable, when you’ve given all of yourself and still feel empty—you are left with two choices: break, or rebuild.

I won’t lie. There were moments I felt like breaking.

I have battled PTSD, bipolar disorder, mood swings, and depression. Some days, I could barely pull myself out of bed. Some days, I felt like I was drowning in emotions I didn’t have the strength to explain. And yet, the world kept moving. Responsibilities didn’t stop, expectations didn’t pause, and people still pulled from me, unaware that I was running on nothing.

Last year tested me in ways I never imagined. I ended a relationship I deeply wanted. One I poured my soul into. And it broke me. Not just the loss, but the realization that I had given so much of myself, yet I was never truly seen, never truly valued. I walked away with nothing but exhaustion, drained of my love, my energy, and my spirit. And then, life didn’t give me time to heal. The weight of being out of work, the unexpected surgery, the long recovery, the piling responsibilities—it all came at once. I thought I could handle it. I thought I could push through, but when my body failed me, when I could no longer do the things I once did effortlessly, I had no choice but to sit in it. To feel everything I had been running from.

Preparing for my son’s graduation should have been a moment of excitement, a moment of celebration, but instead, I found myself withdrawing. I just wanted to be alone. I couldn’t explain it, but I didn’t want to be around people. That’s when I knew—I had to go back to therapy. I had to see my psychiatrist, get back on my medication, and take control of my mental health again. Because no matter how much I prayed, I had to also take action. Healing isn’t just spiritual—it’s mental, emotional, and physical.

And then this year, the surgery happened. I thought it would be simple. Something I could bounce back from quickly. But this surgery was nothing like I expected. It forced me into yet another level of surrender, another layer of patience, another reminder that healing has no shortcuts. I cry a lot. I get emotional, and sometimes it feels like the world is changing too fast, yet somehow, it also feels like we’re moving backward. There’s so much hate, so much anger, so much division. And as I get older, I realize that time moves whether we are ready or not. I used to picture myself in a different place by now. I thought I’d be married, settled, moving in a rhythm that felt secure. Instead, I find myself constantly adjusting, constantly learning, constantly relearning how to exist in this world.

And January—it never gets easier. In 2020, I lost my father. In December 2021, I lost my child. That kind of pain never truly leaves. It lingers. It shifts. Some days, it’s a whisper. Some days, it’s a storm. I wanted that baby so bad. So bad. And sometimes, that grief still knocks the air out of me. No matter how much time passes, I still feel the loss. I still cry. And I still ask God why. But through it all, my faith remains my anchor.

I am deeply spiritual. I trust in the Most High. I believe in the power of prayer, in the power of divine alignment. Not a day goes by that I don’t pray. I pray through my pain, through my uncertainty, through my grief. I light my candles. I speak to my ancestors. I trust that even in my hardest moments, I am never truly alone. And my advice to anyone experiencing something similar—love yourself first, pour into you, work on your healing, seek therapy, sit with your emotions, stop running. Search spiritually for God, pray, meditate, trust in divine timing. Don’t let your situation break your spirit. You are stronger than you feel in this moment. Always take a break for your mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual health. You cannot pour from an empty cup. Love will always come. You won’t have to chase it. You won’t have to question it. When it’s meant for you, it will align effortlessly. And above all, life is short—so enjoy it. Live. Love. Heal. Breathe. Be present.

I am still learning, still healing, still growing. But what I know for sure is this: I will not break. I will rise. I will love again. But this time, from a place of wholeness. And when the time is right, when my spirit is aligned, when my heart is open and whole—love will find me. Not through force. Not through desperation. But through divine alignment.

Lately, I’ve been searching deep,
through silent nights and wounds that weep.
Reflecting on the path I’ve known,
the love I gave, yet stood alone.

This season of stillness, a destined pause,
life unfolding by divine laws.
Losing, healing, standing still,
learning that time bends to God’s will.

I’ve poured my soul into the hands of others,
lifted friends, lovers, sisters, brothers.
But now, I turn that love within,
where healing starts, where I begin.

No longer chasing, forcing, pleading,
just trusting life, trusting its meaning.
For what is mine will never stray,
it will find me in its own way.

Yes, I want love, but love is not a cure,
not a place where wounds endure.
No one should fix what they didn’t break,
love should build, not bend till it aches.

I seek a bond where spirits grow,
not a place where burdens show.
A hand to hold, not one to mend,
a partner first, a lover, a friend.

So I stand in truth, in light, in grace,
embracing healing, finding my space.
Celibate, patient, guarding my soul,
waiting for love that makes me whole.

No more weight upon my chest,
no more giving till there’s nothing left.
Love is balance, love is free,
love will meet me when it’s meant to be.

And when it does, I will not chase,
I will not question time or place.
For love aligned, by fate, by call,
needs no force—it simply falls.

In the river of time, we drift and glide on life’s current, side by side.
We flow together, bound by routines and survival’s embrace, with some finding solace in their pace and others who bear burdens, heavy and wide.
Yet despite our different paths, the goal for all remains unchanged, to stay afloat and abide.

We journey on this temporal stream, experiencing moments both shared and a dream.

For me, floating adrift for nearly three decades, it was in my recent path that I set myself ablaze,
consumed by flames of renewal, a heart reborn. In time’s river, I’ll continue to soar.

In the scorch, I let myself burn, shedding the old, bitter me that yearned to extinguish God’s goodness within.
Anger and resentment threatened to consume,
plunging me into dark, endless gloom.
Yet, like a phoenix, I rose anew, enlightened, with self-awareness shining through.
From the ashes, l emerged, reborn and free,
snuffing out the flames that once consumed me.

As I rise, the future’s dawn, In 2025, a new path drawn.
No longer bound by insecure ties, the past’s weight, I bid goodbye.
Goodbye to burdens heavy shadows, threatening to cave in on me,
goodbye to the whispers of names and flawed reflections;
I’ll let the flames of courage soar, And watch the past, forevermore.

With gasoline, I’ll set it free,
from chain of doubt I’ll break with glee.
A resolution blazes, fierce and true,
In the horizon’s arms, I’ll soar anew.
From the ashes, I rise, wings spread wide,
embracing the sky, my spirit twirled.
Let it all burn, in the night’s embrace,
I’ll find my freedom, in this vast space.

404 not found
My long search came up empty
Looking for the one

After the divorce
Never thought I’d try to look
Then I hit refresh

Found a rabbit hole
I decided to jump in
To see what I’d find

Eww, what a cesspool
What does it say about me
That I am in it?

And then in the end
Disorganized attachment
Bit me in the ass

Then, I decided
I’d try therapy instead
To get over her

404 not found
Entered the wrong URL
BetterHelp.com

Not Bumble.com
Would have been more suitable
For my broken heart

I ain’t playing no games
Everytime I wait for a message
I get a little sad because I’m wasting my time
You’re dangerous running through my mind
I should let you go but I can’t
I try and try and I try
You’re wishing for me to be near you
You plan to reach out to me
Picking the phone up and then putting it down
Afraid of what I would say to you
Here’s what I would say:
You played an important role in our young life
You didn’t really realize that I was sad and in pain
I was more concerned making sure you were happy
You being happy always lifted my spirits
Talking to you about anything kept my pain away
Being near you made me forget why I was sad in the first place
Even when I was told I wasn’t pretty enough to be with you
I was always coming around
Here what I also wanted to tell you when I reached out:
I’m not even supposed to be here
but it’s getting hard to explain it
You saved and protected me that night
I was supposed to die in the dark woods
Beaten and tortured
Bleeding through the night
My body in enormous pain and giving up
Even though you weren’t there physically
You were just there spiritually
I know I can’t get that back because you hate me
Believe me I hated me too
I went through hell and back
And I refuse to go back
We are different now
Trust me I’m okay now, kind of
Just tell me one thing
Tell me it’s not over

I see you.
Not just the you they pretend to notice,
but the you that lingers in shadows,
weighed down by whispers that won’t hush.
The you that wonders if silence
is the only way to be heard.

I won’t lie to you—
this pain ain’t easy to carry.
It seeps into your bones,
fills your lungs with the weight of nights
that stretch too long, too heavy,
too empty.

I know the darkside.
The way it calls your name like a lullaby,
promising rest where the world
only offers war.
I know how it feels
when the walls close in,
when every breath feels borrowed,
when hope is a language
you forgot how to speak.

But listen to me.

There are others who walked this road,
stumbled, fell, but still found their way.
Not because the weight vanished,
but because they learned—
somehow, some way—
to shift it,
to share it,
to bear it just one more day.

So if tonight feels like the last chapter,
I beg you—
turn the page.

Because the story ain’t done.
And neither are you.

Soft whispers drift where silence grows,
Petals like dreams in a quiet flow.
Each one, a story, a delicate trace,
Carried by currents in a peaceful embrace.

Colors of love, shades of grace,
Gliding with time, no need to race.
Their journey slow, but hearts are light,
Dancing on ripples in the soft moonlight.

They don’t ask for more, just to be,
Floating freely, wild and free.
A moment of calm in a world of haste,
A reminder that beauty’s never a waste.

As they move, they leave no mark,
But their presence brightens the dark.
Like fleeting thoughts, like dreams we chase,
Rose petals drift, in love’s embrace.

Even when the weight drags heavy,
like chains forged from every doubt,
I lift my pen—
not because the storm has passed,
but because I refuse to drown in silence.

The page don’t judge my shadows,
don’t flinch at my broken breath,
it just waits—patient, open,
like a night sky still believing in stars.

I write because I am still here.
Because my ink is proof
that no matter how deep the ache,
there is still a voice inside me,
and it deserves to be heard.

“It’s no big deal.”
“It’s just another day.”
That’s what girls think,
or at least, that’s what they say.

February 14th,
can come and go.
No need to make a fuss,
or put on a big show.

But it doesn’t take much,
to put a smile on her face.
A stuffed animal, a box of chocolates,
and some roses in a vace.

A little bit of effort,
goes a really long way.
To show her a piece of the love,
that you feel every day.

Life moves so fast,
it can all start to blur.
So take a little time to show,
that you still choose her. ❤️

Dear Unsealers:

It’s the 14th of February.

A Happy Valentine’s Day to those who celebrate the day!

This is my message for this year. A time where love, kindness and compassion are needed more than ever before. Don’t give into the cynicism and darkness.

I hope that you feel love and loved today, no matter where in the world you are.

This is my message of love:

On the 14th day of February
We celebrate the spirit of love

For friends, family, and loved ones
For anyone that you hold, near and dear to your heart

The feeling of love and kindness is needed
Now, more than ever before

It is easy to feel cynical amid all the advertising.
Candy hearts and greeting cards are everywhere.

Cupid’s arrow shot across the bow
To everyone in this world

May love spread to all corners
On this day and every single day of the year

From me to you, with all the love I can give
Happy Valentine’s Day!

I wish I had vision so I could watch you
I wish I had candy so I could give to you
I wish I had hands so I could touch yours
I wish I had a voice so I could inspire you
I wish I had courage so I could court you
I wish I had the time so I could tell you
I wish I had a store so I could sell to you
I wish I had a pet so you could too
I wish I had a bruise so I could show you
I wish I had water so I could offer you
I wish I had directions so I could guide you
I wish I had style so I could compliment you
I wish I had grace so I could remind you
I wish I had a poem so I could share with you
If not today then maybe tomorrow
I can’t promise today
But I promise I’ll think of this tomorrow