If beautiful was printed from a negative it would be the silhouette of a rose
Because roses are sculpted from the hands of immorality
Breathed from the marble no one saw as a flower
Every petal flaunts the gorgeous of galaxies
Positively Divine
The eyes of roses are ocean deep and sky blue
They see life the way we’re supposed to live
Balanced in duality, Life and Death
A marriage with as many anniversaries as time
The two need to become one so fear may bloom into confidence
A rose might be one of the few things to achieve perfection on earth the way its attraction reflects the heavens
The way it’s smile ages like the innocence of a child until its aroma becomes the wine from 35′
The way it freezes death into a Picasso Dali Esque piece of painted poetry
A rose understands the heartbeat of death and the silence of life in humility
That’s why they are used during and after life
Have you ever seen such grace command hell ?
Roses make the marble soft, the concrete cry, and anxiety strong
And that is why I say, “you remind me of a rose, an absolute rose.” (Daisy Buchanan)
You are and can be everything you want to achieve
p.s. it’s never too late to sculpt your rose…

This quote from The Great Gatsby has inspired me since my high school years. As a passionate admirer of flowers, particularly roses, I aspire to embody the metaphor of sculpting my rose from concrete. Life presents various challenges, and I have faced significant mental health hurdles along the way. However, this quote serves as a powerful reminder to embrace the strength that can emerge from pain and success. I am committed to personal growth and believe in my capacity to improve each day. That is what I wish to communicate in this poem and inspire others on their own journey.

“Energy cannot be created or destroyed”

It cannot be created. It cannot be destroyed. A law of thermodynamics.

You told me this when I was young, at a time when I didn’t realize it would be the only thing to bring me peace with the ever passing of time after your physical body left this earth. Where does our life force go when the lights go off? And the energy leaves our shell?

I believe it becomes one with the cosmos. And that is why I feel you in the stars.

I like to imagine your spirit shape shifting through the vast universe, making your way to me as often as you can – in my dreams, in my moments of despair, in the little signs that are just too perfect to be a coincidence. Your love for me transcends time and space, as does mine for you.

I love you, and will into eternity.

Our purpose in life isn’t random
Our dreams are made from the elements of
Our soul
Our passions
Our experiences
Our God given gifts

My dream to become a Mother has been in my bones since before I can remember
But it isn’t just biology
My dream was built on my infinite capacity for love
It was built on my naturally nurturing soul
It was built on my caring nature
And compassion I hold for all
The grit I have to persevere in hard times
And the confidence in myself to tenderly raise a human
In this world, that while beautiful, is not without cruelty and suffering
A human who could meet that world both strength
And a heart for love, too

I was in a marriage
That was akin to two puzzle pieces forcing themselves to fit
That made me feel alone, even when in the same room
And as years passed – so did our shared dream of parenthood
He no longer desired children, with me at least
Nothing crushes a soul more than a broken dream
And I questioned; how will I move past this
How will I ever be blessed enough to have a love required
To make my dream a reality

But our soul’s desires don’t fade
I managed the courage to leave
No matter how shaky I was packing those bags
And calling that lawyer
And going on dates: something I never thought I would ever do again

To my surprise
The love I’d been seeking for a decade
Was waiting all along
And the surprise of a lifetime
Turned into my dream of a lifetime
As I type this, watching my little miracle fast asleep
My sonshine will rise again this morning
The light of my dream sitting right in front of me
Will never cease to amaze me

Dear 8.1 billion of you that I share this planet with:

The vast majority of you I will never meet. We walk separate paths that statistically – will simply never cross in a meaningful way. To the one waking up on the opposite side of earth than me today. To the one I see on the news. To the one who made a TikTok that made me giggle but I’ll never remember your name. To the one who took their child to the very same park I took my son to hours later, but never met.

We live in an era where we’re more connected than ever, and also more divided than ever. The media spins a tale that we are so very different from one another. And yes, it is somewhat true – we are different. We have different backgrounds, different privileges, different beliefs; but one thing remains more true:

We are more similar than we are different.

In another life, that girl you look down upon could be your best friend. In a parallel universe, the homeless man you silently judge on the street corner could be your brother. In an alternate reality, an older woman bagging your groceries could be your grandmother. If there was a glitch in the matrix, that infant crying in the seat next to you on the flight could be your own child.

We are all human beings with beating hearts. If you were to sit down and have a conversation with an individual you think couldn’t be more unlike yourself, I bet you would leave that conversation feeling otherwise.

We are more similar than we are different, and that is beautiful.

You’ll come to me in whispers

And you’ll visit me in dreams

I’ll awaken from your kisses

Softly lit by radiant beams

In the echos of my life

I will catch your sweetest voice

I will hear our love’s pure song

And my heart will then rejoice

I will strain my tired ear

For each whisper that you gift

As I listen most intently

In our memories I will drift

And one day your gentle whispers

Will be louder and quite clear

We’ll be standing face to face

And our love’s song all will hear

Knees rug-burnt on the carpet
praying for freedom one day
in your high school body
and your high school face
caked with wet mascara
searching for someplace
that is home
but where is home?
Will you ever know what that is?
You don’t belong here
so you thought:
“I belong nowhere.”
No wine to quench
how parched you are
for acceptance
so hungry
for independence
you thought you were praying to god
but you were praying to me.
As the creator of your destiny—
how rich you life will be.
In your woman body
with your woman face
my god
my force
how gorgeous is your vessel now
to grow into your soul
reaching up into the sky
like redwoods, sycamores—
ever-growing so divine.
Embrace your unbelonging
so much, that you’ll belong
to everyone and
everywhere like
wind and air and water
and I heard your sobs of yearning
egg-shaped on the floor
begging for some glimmer
some proof that there is more
but you need this storm
to crack you open
you need this pain
you need disaster
so you can bring those shards together.
The pointy pieces hurt, I know
like countless shrapnel splinters
but bit by bit
you’ll dig them out
and fill the wounds with earth…
when harvest comes,
you’ll be so humbled
by how much it was worth
and instead of praying
to a man-made god
for the shackles to release—
the world folds with all your thanks
as you bring it to its knees.

I invented a new season for life because I got tired of the winter spring summer fall pattern
My paisley doesn’t like to conform to the depression of polka dots only on the pocket square and not the entire outfit
Where’s the art in the plain white t?
I see the aesthetic, but I want the screaming art to argue with my calm voice
It’s the beauty in the pain that you can’t see until the scars have enough time to grow wings
I used to feel most at peace listening to music on my bed as a haunting sleep would close my eyes
I used to feel most at peace under the dim lights of cinema pumping hope into my veins where I had blood run free
I used to feel most at peace on the solidarity of solo ventures between the court and I
It would hum deathly echoes like lullaby’s to my heart
This trinity became my medical addiction as pride got in the way of God
Then over the years my coffee finally became cold, and I missed the warmth of summer
I could smell my own toxicity deeply rooted and swallowing my faith
So, I questioned myself through the tears, I marked the points of pain with my pen, and dug up the weeds I planted and reaped
This time I will sow truth within the uncomfortable moments
Because in this season until forever I’m most at peace on the grounds of the earthquake
Knowing that I can’t move forward unless I shake things up
Staying in a comfortable pattern only leads to a broken record repeating the line you hate to hear
You are meant to break records
p.s. peace is born in the growth of pain…

I’m currently 13 and the only thing that makes sense is sadness
So, to cope I like to hear melodies caress my ears because I’m too damaged to hug myself
Then I’ll let my pen tell stories of love and horror for the simple fact that I’m afraid to love myself away from depression
I get the impression that an early death is the only way to escape to peace
But I’m afraid so for the time being I’ll clean my room since I can’t find the energy to organize my life
I just found an extra cassette tape in my music collection next to the pile of CD’s and Records
Complementing the art hanging on the wall adjacent to my mood
I think to myself: curiosity let’s have a conversation where you tell me all the secrets Victoria victories made me hate
The tape starts with no words
The opening scene let’s nature sing before the score interrupts
Then some old guy starts speaking about life like he knows me, I’m in no mood for a lecture but I have time today
After all I was just thinking about ending it all, how could this hurt more
He says: There’s a wealth beyond financial peace within the things we blink past every 24 hours
Try not to take for granted the natural order of life around you
I know the stress will have you crying rivers on the inside that you never let water your cheeks
But you need to face your fears, or the dam will explode
You need to Yoga flex your way through the challenges less flexibility become a weakness
Not your strength; muscles are for show, but the morality of your core can lift you past anything if you water your flowers of dread
“Be like water my friend,” and if I’m being bru-tal-ly honest you lie to yourself too much
Fright has kept you in third place longer than you should have been
Unable to reach the heights you are meant for
Remember the natural order of things, but know a long list keeps your further from progress than small steps of truth
You’re 34 now and just entering your prime
The next decade will be the soundtrack to the whole of your life
The season from the age of 13-32 was just a small slice
My teenage brain begins to become bored and 34 is forever away
And right before I was about to stop the tape he said something that made me think, maybe he knows a little something:
“You are the most coveted rose”… you see I love the floral print of life
And this statement was the first time outside of my parents that I felt worthy
He then went on to say
You’re beautiful in full bloom but still walk like a sunflower with its head down
It’s ok to be a lazy daisy sometimes but remember the sun never stops smiling and the moon never stops dreaming
So, neither should you
Your tulip words are meant to be heard by the world
And one day they will, as sure as a daffodil
Will blow it’s horn of victory past everything that has held you back
Just keep fighting and I promise you will win
p.s. don’t be afraid to cry…