Dear Mouse,

Why did I use the term ‘dear’ when speaking to you? I have no affection for you whatsoever.

Last night, I awoke to the sound of scratching and scuffling under my kitchen sink. Although it was not loud, the creepy feeling permeated my entire being. I woke my husband to investigate. My suspicions were correct. You had encroached in my space, leaving me feeling violated. My restful repose had fled, as you eluded his attempt to capture you. How dare you!

I find you repulsive, so don’t flatter yourself that you are my greatest fear-’musophobia’. I can’t explain why you terrify me so much. Let’s just call it a visceral reaction that goes beyond intellect. I am a logical woman and many times I have tried to analyze this irrational fear and conquer it. Alas, I failed.

The sight, sound, or suspicion that you or your kin are in my vicinity causes intense physical reaction. My pulse quickens, my breathing speeds up, and often my gag reflex kicks into high gear. The uncontrollable shiver that runs up and down my spine, bringing on ‘heebie-jeebies’, is ridiculous, I know.

How can I allow such a tiny creature, a hundredth of my size, to terrify me so? You don’t have vicious fangs or claws (okay, maybe on a miniature scale) that could do me much damage. Perhaps it’s the way you scurry about at warp speed, too quick, too unpredictable, freaking me out even in peripheral view. Maybe it’s the thought of you lurking about unseen, assessing your surroundings, figuring out your next move, and spying on me.

Don’t start tooting your own horn when I mention you are a master escapologist, slipping through the smallest openings, to invade spaces where you are not welcome; and elude capture.

I will acknowledge that you are not out to get me. It’s cold outside, and you need food and shelter, I get that. However, I implore you to remain in your natural habitat: straw bales, barns, abandoned buildings, dense brush. Rodents would love these places, and barnyard animals tolerate sharing space.

So here’s the deal. Take heed to my warning. I have now planted several varieties of traps in many spots, whose location I shall not divulge to you; we have launched a thorough investigation around the perimeter of our home, sealing up every nook and cranny; and last, but not least, we have placed our two feline furries on high alert to keep you and your family and friends at bay. Spread the word.

I am regaining control-I will not allow you to defeat me. Fear only has as much power as I allow it to possess. I will begin each day with calming meditation and my mantra:

“You are only a mouse, and I am stronger than you.”

Respectfully distant,

The Conqueror

My writing style score was 100%

Dear Fear,

I want to say I don’t know who you are, but we both know that to be false. You scare the living daylights out of me. Make me forget that I’m in charge. But I believe I cannot control you, so I’m at your mercy. Anger comes to my aid, trying to thwart or deter you. It works for a moment or two before you grab hold of me once again.

If I had it my way, I wouldn’t keep you around. You hold me back from new experiences too often. But how can I be so callous? You are also my protector when danger approaches. You give me energy and you point me toward my desires. These mixed feelings bring much confusion. Maybe that’s all part of the plan! How can I remove you when I also need you?

No matter how strong my desires are, we cannot get rid of each other. So let us coexist. This fear of failure or imperfection has driven us to succeed in ways we never imagined. But it has also crippled our creativity for half our life. Indecision became a byproduct of you, among other things, such as procrastination and self-criticism. How are these to help us? If we are to thrive together, then I must learn to accept you for who you are. The same applies to me. I desperately need to accept myself. Only then can we work together. Without acceptance, I am left with resistance.

Looks like we’re going to spend more time with each other now. I’ve taken you for granted, as well as myself. Appreciation is the remedy for that. But I doubt my ability to do this. Maybe that’s your voice, reminding me of the importance of this mission. Resistance is futile, right? We will figure this out together. I can still feel a fear of failing. But I suppose that tells me I’m still ALIVE.

Much love,
Kelly Anne

Style Score – 100%

Prowriting Grade: Goals 68% Improvements 67%
It doesn’t like poems apparently,
and that is likely a good poem in itself, once written….

WHO WINS

Taking a photograph
of an empty picture frame
arranging the ponderosa pine boards
a wooded surround meant to be exactly right
around the nothing inside of it
fretting over the far off, distant speck
that could be a house or ranch
might be too much
subject matter in the photo,
everything had to be
Just Sooo…
or the addict would seek refuge
in the addiction
and the fight between the not-addicted
vs the addicted personalities
now stand eye to eye
nose to nose
the fighting almost starting
with the addicted’s steely little eyes
in a slanted head staring
into the focused non-addicted eyes
looking straight back
that is fraught
with an orange, determined compassion.

There, a cute woman
looking at me
short upturned nose
she was a part of something bigger
than herself.
She filled me, breached my stone redoubt
wanting a respite
even tho she pulled me towards her
with a silken rope
bit away from
but towards-to
hailing from me and returning
to me. We were both naked
making the intense attractions o much stronger
and dancing some primeval waltz
that energy exchange
alluring in close contact moist
nakedness bouncing, wiggling
wild hair not covering much
this intense attraction between us
to bond us,
“I am An Addiction” she says in a soft sexy, alto voice
finger slowly motioning to come hither
“I call to you to follow,
participate.”

Sometimes the addict wins
always the non-addicted is aware
of the hungry yearnings, the orgasmic attractions
each incidence is an empty frame tho
surrounding distance composed
wether, or not,
into a fretful awareness
of a grey, cloudy decision
on that perpetual blackboard,
was that another derision?
Or, just another carefully chalked mark
one two three four crossed slash-mark makes five
on the Self’s scoreboard information.
None of it a literal depiction
and nor is it a literary description
this being, the Self’s realization.

If there are four elements, you are my fifth.
Somewhere between the earth, fire, water, and air,
You are the salt that makes everything better.
You fill my empty spaces and surpass limitations.
You are the substance that cradles the stars.
You are the essence that holds the heavenly bodies.
Even the planets would call you perfect.
You could heal and cure and outsmart time.
My “quinta essentia” and the best of your kind.
I look at you and only see God’s handiwork.

Style Score: 100%

I’ve always had a fear of never being good enough. Whether it was in love, life, or friendships. I didn’t grow up with a comfortable upbringing, so I never felt good enough to fit in. Once upon a time, I once felt that my honest, quirky self wouldn’t earn approval, preventing me from being myself. I’ve always felt pressured to pretend to be someone I’m not—perhaps more outgoing, perhaps more conventional. I always felt uncomfortable being anything other than my authentic self, maybe because I was born to stand out. Leaving that marriage, where I felt pressured to conform, even though it hurt me to my core, was the first step toward discovering my true self. Once I was on my own again, I could tap into my true potential and create the life I’ve always wanted. I overcame my fear by embracing change and stepping out on faith. I can’t lose by betting on myself! My fear of not being good enough won’t win because I’ve been through worse and still found my way out. I’ve faced setbacks and disappointments that felt crushing, but I learned and grew stronger. My fear won’t win because I now believe in myself, capable of anything I set my mind to. Everything I do from now on will be from my heart, with the kindest, purest intentions! I am enough! A million times enough!

(Style Score: 100)

Dear Fear,

You’ve been lurking in the shadows, creeping into my thoughts like a cold, unseen presence. I thought I could outsmart you distract myself with distractions, tell myself I’d get to it tomorrow. But tomorrow never comes, does it?

You show up like an uninvited guest at every moment I shine. You whisper that I don’t deserve to be here, that I’m not doing this, that it’s only a matter of time before I get exposed. You’ve made me question my worth more than once, turning my achievements into shadows of doubt. You convinced me my success is nothing but a fluke, and I am nothing but a fraud waiting to be unmasked.

You’re the one who stands in the doorway, tempting me to stay in my comfort zone. You distract me with “just one more scroll” or “ one more episode.” You are always patient, like a slow poison, convincing me that there’s no need to rush. But deep down I feel your grip tightening, the hours slipping away, leaving me with nothing but guilt and missed opportunities.

But today- today, I’m taking my power back, you may be a shadow, but I’ve learned that shadows only exist because of light. I’m the light. And I’m done hiding from you.

I’ve stared you both down long enough. I know you’re not as powerful as you seem. You can whisper all you want, but I won’t be silenced. I’ll push past you, step by step, and I’ll make my way to the future I’ve been too afraid to claim. You might still show up, but I’m no longer letting you dictate my story.

Watch me. I’m doing this.

Sincerely, a future that’s no longer waiting.

Prowriting Style Score: 79
My Fears: Imposter Syndrome and Procrastination

Dear Unknown,

I shiver when I hear your name. You are so cavalier towards my distress.

I distance myself from you to no avail; because you always seem to find me.

You are the culprit of my misery. Or you could be the reason for the joy that awaits me.

I lay awake all night, and I don’t want to face the day. You are there to greet me at sunrise.

I sit here stagnant, engulfed in fear.

I am reluctant to admit that you are my deepest fear, but I refuse to live my life imprisoned by you.

I vow from this day forward that I will face my fear of you, and live my life despite your unpredictable ways.

I realize who I am. I am kin to a royal family, and I hold special powers and authority.

Unknown, you must relinquish the grip you hold on me.

I will place demands on the Kingdom inside of me. To reveal my greatness, and see the world as an empty canvas, awaiting my commands.

Sincerely,

a journal on fear.
fear. a feeling most of us avoid. the thought of embracing it sounds insane. why would we want to sit in an uncomfortable feeling? it’s easier to run from the things that scare us than it is to be okay with them. is fear always a bad thing? I choose to believe it isn’t. that a healthy amount of fear provides the urgency to achieve the things on our mind. a healthy amount of fear welcomes growth, forces movement. rebukes stagnation. a healthy amount of fear can be lifechanging, when we allow it to knock on our comfort and push us into the person who conquers it.

there isn’t a life you could live where you avoid ever feeling fear. there is a life where you can spend a great amount of time running from it, though. I highly recommend you don’t run from fear. if nothing else, fear will teach you about yourself. remind you of your strength, remind you of how much you can handle before you break. remind you that your mind is tough, and the more you look fear in the eyes, the tougher you become. those who are resilient are resilient because they have faced their fear time and time again. even when they didn’t want to. especially when they didn’t want to. the resilient mind looks at fear as something to overcome. as our growth is typically on the other side of fear.

I can remember a lot of fearful moments in my life. of those fearful times, I grew from the majority of them. besides the time it was unnecessary fear like getting scared of a ghost or a noise I heard or something that holds no real value. however, looking at things that have intimidated me, things that have felt bigger than me- I have made myself equal to. I have leveled out the playing field that I had thought could not be leveled. and that’s the power of believing in yourself enough to overcome the difficult things.

two years ago, I lived in a constant state of fear. in an unhealthy way- a way in which I felt like the whole world was after me. that the world was a dangerous place, and I was fragile. that one small blow and I’d collapse under the sake of the world. I used my fragility as a scapegoat of growth. the person I could eventually become I was already intimidated by, as I knew the power I could possess, and that was scary. it seems counterintuitive to be intimidated by your own potential, but I feel like most people actually are. that’s why people don’t embrace change often. they like to stay the way they are. it requires less effort. and looking at the power they could one day hold is almost too much to handle. you deserve to reach your highest self, yet you have to get out of your own head.

too many people live under the imposter syndrome- always feeling like they aren’t doing enough. that they aren’t ever going to be as good as other people doing the same thing of them. that they aren’t actually on the way to achieving their goals. living under a box, feeling sheltered, shy. you can’t be shy when it comes to fear, overcoming it. you have to be relentless, pull out your strength, battle fear with the parts of yourself you’re willing to let go of. change, the embracing of fear, requires sacrifice. that’s what people are scared of. what they may have to let go of in order to reach the other side of their fear. there’s things and people, there’s a version of you, that you have to rid yourself of, and that’s hard to be okay with.

I remember the day I decided to embrace my fear, apply for my dream job. but it wasn’t the application that scared me. or even the interview necessarily. it was the way my life would look after taking the leap of faith on myself. knowing that nothing in my life would look the same after embracing this fear of mine. I knew everything would change: my environment, the people in my life, my lifestyle, all of my habits and routines. everything I knew was about to explode, disintegrate. and that’s what I feared most. but, one day, I realized I could sit in this hesitation for the rest of my life if I wasn’t careful. I realized that one day my fear could turn into regret. and for a lot of people, that is the pipeline. they fear something to the extent of running from it for so long that it transitions into regret. the “I should have” “I wish I would have” “what if” mentality that feels far more painful than the discomfort of fear. in life I think we ought to choose our discomfort. for me, I would rather feel fear long enough to grow from it. rather than the anxiety of running from it until I stumble into regret. as regret is a thing you cannot undo. but growth is something you can always capitalize off of. you can always switch directions, keep growing from your fear. but you can’t go back in time and do something because you chose not to do it out of fear. you have to sit with the decision you make in the way you go about fear. it will follow you.

I chased my fear long enough to be met with a version of myself I never would have dreamed of- one who is resilient mentally and physically. a version of myself that lives life fully, and loves each day. there was a big life on the other side of everything I feared. I’m happy with how I choose to regard fear.

fear will change you for better or for worse. and that’s entirely up to you. two years ago, it was changing me for the worst. it forced me to stay inside, sheltered me in, closed me off to the world. if you live in fear deep enough, you close yourself off to the opportunities of the universe. you close yourself off to a life that has so much to offer. fear can be paralyzing. debilitating. agonizing. you can live in a way where you succumb to it. where all of your actions align with the avoidance of the very thing you feel smaller than. and life will prove you are smaller than this thing. only because you are placing it above you.

but, if you so choose to allow your growth from fear, it can change you for the better. it can make your world seem bigger. open doors you used to hide behind. you’ll feel stronger, nothing is unachievable anymore. you’re capable of so much. once you prove that to yourself, you’ll nearly be unstoppable. life will feel like a challenge. in the best way.

What’s “Love at first sight” for me, you wonder?
It’s the sight of seeing “the lineup” to my favorite musician.
It’s the squeal of “they’re coming to our town” heard across the room.
It’s the desire of “oh my gosh. I need to buy tickets.”
It’s the sensation of “tickets purchased” throughout the nervous system.
It’s the “can’t sleep” process the night before.
It’s the “day of” adrenaline rush that’s used as motivation to make the day go “faster.”
It’s the “beep” of ticket being scanned to enter the arena.
It’s the “look around of approval” that the night is going to be a good night.
It’s the “stop mid performance” to take every ounce of appreciation into vein.
It’s the “this is my song” moment that captures the mood of the night.
It’s the “adoration” of everyone singing just as loud as the person next to them.
It’s the “angelic sight” when everyone is just as relaxed as you are.
It’s the “heartache of knowing” the last song of the night was just sung.
It’s the “gratitude of the night” knowing it was a success.
It’s the “concert hangover” the next morning when reality sets back in.
It’s the “can not wait till next show” blues that settle in until the next show!

Style Score: 100%

Dear Bestie,

I get it. I do.

You’ve been my ride or die since I chickened out from going to the school of Journalism school at the University of Missouri back in the day. Circa 1998.

You held my hand as I decided on that High School English Teacher thing instead when I ended up pregnant at age 21.

You never left and bought a front row ticket to watch as I became a single mom of 4 little girls by the time I hit age 26.

You were there when we walked across that stage to get that degree, 8 months pregnant while my 4-year-old, 3-year-old, and 18-month-old daughters watched as I waddled across that stage.

You never left.

You told me it was ok when I got that D in Shakespeare.

You stayed with me all the way through. My loyalty to you mirrored the loyalty you showed me first. Please know I’m forever grateful.

While teaching teenagers to write, you encouraged me to focus on the Mommin’. It was easy to stay a small-town writer—just a few FB posts here and there and a Substack or two.

Chapter after chapter turned into more than a single book over the course of all those years busy with Mommin’ on the solo.

It’s now 2025, and you’re still here. And I accidentally somehow turned 45. The halfway point.

The 3 oldest daughters, now 23,22, and almost 19 in college and 1 with her own degree, while the youngest, now 18, has only 4 months left before high school graduation as the class valedictorian. The last to leave the nest as she heads to Mizzou at summer’s end.

We always told ourselves, you and I, that I was too busy to write for real. And here we are now, with just a few months left before that excuse no longer pays rent.

Somewhere along the way, I uncovered your real name.

My bestie.

First name: Fear.

Middle name: Writing.

Last name: Books—with a handful of words in between

Fear of Writing the Books. All of them.

But the thing is, I’ve lived with you so long that somewhere along the way I’m no longer scared of you.

I realized that my best friend, Fear, had molded me into the writer I’ve become—a writer whose name I never believed would appear on a book.

Somewhere along the way, fear becomes the thing that refines a girl and makes her better.

Fear becomes the key to unlocking what’s inside you.

The one who is the Creator put that thing into your heart.

The One who placed a girl like me on this earth at this specific time in history to create, produce, and contribute to her people in her places. To use words to help others in their becoming.

I want you to know I am so thankful for you. But the time is here. It’s time to let you go.

I don’t need you anymore. Truth is, I’m a small-town girl, and it wasn’t easy raising 4 little girls on the solo on a teacher’s income, but I did it. And now, it’s time to write.

I needed you for the first 45. I needed a bestie like you. A someone to do life with. To grow me. To help me become.

I made it out of that small-town mentality—the one that holds a girl with a pen hostage. The one that silences dreams too soon.

It’s time to step into who I’ve spent years accidentally becoming—and fully own all that I now am.

I’m done pretending the words I’ve been writing all these years were simply words without an audience.

Words written but never read.

Truth is—the next 45 years is enough time to write all the words for all the people who need to read them.

Those held hostage by their own fears in need of unlocking.

Turns out I’m the owner of the keys. It’s up to me to have the guts to share the words given to me with others in desperate need of the keys given to me in the currency of words.

Fear isn’t the enemy.

Sometimes, she just needs space to help a girl to become.  

With Love Always,

Style Score: 90

if “happiness is a butterfly”,
you are a bumble bee.
honey suckles seep
with opportunity
to propogate potential.

the unversal gift
of the life // death // life

the ability to embody
a honeycomb

transmuting
persperation
into pollination

finding a melody
in the hymn song
of the heartbeat

solice in the comfort
of faith,
knowing that Earth Mother,
will make sure everything is okay.

Fighting My Fear

To the monster at my tail,
The all-consuming darkness,
The demon eating me from the inside out,
My persistent bipolar depression –
Know that you will always fail.

You grabbed me when I was small,
Still innocent and naïve,
Oblivious to your existence,
Just trying to grow and get along.
How swiftly you made me fall.

The first battle you almost won.
You withered away my body and soul,
Tricked me into paranoid isolation,
Carried me willingly towards death,
Made me think that you and I were one.

Somehow, I grew stronger,
Shed off your heavy skin,
Almost retrieved my childhood,
Discovered who I really was,
Lingered without you a short time longer.

Then you slyly snuck back inside,
Returned with a vengeance like cancer,
The tumors hidden, but painful,
Taking over my mind and spreading fast.
I thought I had died.

Again and again, you returned,
Both of us fiercer each time.
Each of us learning new tricks,
Straying further away from sanity,
So far away from those concerned.

Yes, you almost won the war.
More than twice I nearly died.
You stole my memories,
But I remembered what mattered.
I got in touch with my inner core.
 
Day and night, I labored away,
Building a new me without you,
Still rubbing out your stain.
I always thought I was strong and tough,
But I had failed to keep you at bay.

I worked muscles long forgotten,
Learned how to love and trust –
Not you, but myself, and select others.
Living became bearable, more navigable.
With my growth, you began to rotten.

Honestly, I still fear you,
Weak and small as you’ve become.
I continue to build my defenses,
Recruiting more soldiers for our next fight.
When you do return, I know what to do.

Pro-Writing Aid Style Score: 79%