As a writer, I often find myself discovering scraps of writing I have jotted down somewhere, or suddenly, a line will appear in my head that doesn’t fit anywhere or doesn’t feel good enough. Sometimes, I foolishly let it fly away because it wasn’t what I was looking for at that moment. I have pondered how we do this with so many things. We set expectations and order and refuse anything that breaks the pattern, even if the thing we are shooing away isn’t harmful but is healing. We become so strict within ourselves that we become the cause of our discomfort. We search for relief in one way and refuse to accept that anything other than that specific thing will help. There is a calming effect that comes with the familiar, but only because one thing helps us, it doesn’t mean something else won’t. Here is a little silly analogy. Only because you love fries doesn’t mean you can’t like mash. It doesn’t mean mash isn’t satisfying, even if fries are your favorite. The same goes for everything in life. Are you feeling sad? Then you probably know something that can help, but if you are being entirely honest, can you say you are open-minded and open-hearted to other options? We tend to dismiss things before attempting them and convince ourselves that something else won’t work until it stands no chance. I was against exercising for so long. Told myself that I hated it and did so with such intensity I couldn’t let myself feel how I genuinely felt. There was no benefit because I refused there to be one. I was determined for it to fail, so it failed; however, when I let go, gave it a chance, and approached it with openness, I learned it does a lot for my mental health. This is one example of many. It is strange how this links with my writing and how I have started writing down the notes I would abandon before, and the results have been incredible. Instead of telling myself they are awful and brushing them out the door, I let them stay a while. I give them room in my notepad and let them ruminate.
In summary, I am saying we are terrible at giving things chances, and we should open ourselves to everything. It is okay if you give something a genuine attempt and it doesn’t work out for you, but please try it. Download the running app, try those HIIT workouts, make that recipe you’ve been unsure about, and write the poetry you are sure will suck. In celebration of this, here is an ending of a poem my brain created that doesn’t have a body yet. Hopefully, one day, it will.
“Please call back later
I’m trying to sleep off the silence
And if you don’t understand
what I’m saying
Congratulations
You’re cured.”
(If you like this letter, I write these weekly on my website. I will post more here also, so make sure we’re friends.)

Dear Movie Fanatics,

Where do I start on my mood swing journey?

Well, you all should know a little about my personality. To begin, I am a partial introvert with an appreciation for life. Empathetic, goofy, and humble all rolled into a nerdy late 30-year-old. I go through the swing of life with a healthy mix of career and personal goals. My love life is healthy, and my fiancée is awesome. He is my balance, happiness, and 1/4 of my heart next to my dad, mom, and dog.
Just to give a little background now let’s go on the rollercoaster- fasten your seatbelts, everybody.
Like most people, I go through different moods depending on my situation in life. I have 5 that drive the genre of shows I am going to watch for the day, week, or month.
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MOOD 1 (Psychological Thriller Genre)
Typically, when I start watching films like this it indicates that I have been around complex individuals—usually my friends, fiancée, or coworkers. To add on, I have watched something insightful/educational. My handy dandy TV providers HULU, Netflix, Tubi, etc… are always on the ball with recommendations for what I usually watch but sometimes I like to switch it up on them.
Recently, I came across a movie called “The Loft” which has a pretty badass cast. The plot centers around five married men who use a loft to have affairs however one woman ends up dead and they must figure out who killed her. Sounds predictable to most moviegoers but the writers threw in two great plot twists. Logan’s character, the main one who ended up buying the loft, ends up essentially screwing all his friends over by having affairs with Chris’s wife, sleeping with Ben’s sister (who was a virgin), and Matt’s affair partner. All the friends end up framing him for the murder of the girl, but it ends up being the awkward friend of the group who gave the girls sleeping pills and Logan’s half-brother who kills her.
A lot went into the plot, but I was very impressed with the director’s ability to keep the story on track. I love it when I have to double back on a film or re-watch it to understand the plot.
After awhile, my brain does need a break from all the movie Jedi mind tricks and that’s when I transition to the more non fiction based genres.
——————————————————————————————————–
MOOD 2 (Documentary Genre)
After I have gotten my dose of fiction for a week straight, I start to crave semi-predictable “historically accurate” content. I tend to get into this mood whenever I discover something new about myself or the people around me. Research begins and I look up specific artists of different genres to get their backstory. For example, sometime last year I happened to be listening to “Time Machine”, by Willow Smith, and in the lyrics, she sings, ” Baby, if I had a time machine, I’d go back to 1983. Maybe I would chill with Basquiat, I’d be out there playing make-believe.” The first question that sprung to mind was, “Who tf was Basquiat? Some French guy?”. Without hesitation, I immediately did a Roku TV search and happened to find a documentary on Hulu called, “Boom For Real: The Late Teenage Years of Jean-Michael Basquiat”.
“OMG, this is the SAMO guy!”- I screamed aloud.
Of course, my random outburst scared my dog and fiancée, but it was only because I felt like I had been sleeping under a rock. After watching how prolific this melanated Brooklyn-born artist was during the 80’s, I ended up purchasing a huge Basquiat-inspired “docu-art-book” (roughly 1,000 pages long) and got through 25% of the book as I am writing this article today.
After viewing 1-10 artists’ life stories, I started to wonder if these celebrities infamous or not, were the inspiration for different horror films. I then delve into my Horror Film binge.
———————————————————————————————————
MOOD 3: (Horror Genre)
Recently, I have been curious about the human experience regarding coincidental or inexplicable events happening in the past or present. I researched the story of Ed & Lorraine Warren. While most people thought they were “Kooks”, I found the integration of their career in “The Conjuring Universe” to be quite insightful. Curiosity at this point got the better of me and I began my binge of the whole series. From “Annabelle” to “The Nun”, each movie kept my attention for following the storyline. Jump scares used in moderation make for a great horror film in my opinion.
Afterward, I go to the old-school films that set the bar for the horror franchise today. Films such as “Child’s Play”, “The Exorcist”, “The Shining”, “Alien” etc… I am a firm believer in giving homage to the originals. Eventually, after my subconscious tricks me into believing I am being chased by an evil puppeteer, I begin my transition into a animated viewing experience.
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MOOD 4: (MANGA/ANIME/CARTOON GENRE)
I usually get into my animation craze when I need a dose of comedic relief from any horror or non-fiction binge I finish. Anime, Manga, and cartoons hold a special place in my heart and brain. Maybe the fact that someone’s inner child brought their imagination to life is what draws me in so heavily. One of my favorite anime series is Cowboy Bebop. Alongside this masterpiece, I also love “Samurai Champloo”, “Trigun”, “Attack on Titan”, and “The Boondocks”, just to name a few.
Afterwards, I go down memory lane for my dose of nostalgia and start watching projects from Nickelodeon, Disney Channel, and Cartoon Network. “Samurai Jack”, “Hey Arnold”, “Code Name Kids Next Door”, “The Proud Family”, etc… bring me down memory lane and my loved ones talk about which episodes resounded with us the most.
Recently, I made two cartoon theories on the TikTok app. Both theories focus on the possibility of cartoon characters being reincarnated on other cartoon shows. For example, I made a theory video about Susie Carmichael, from “The Rugrats” being reincarnated as Ms. Zorski the drama/English and music teacher due to their hobbies or life events in each show. As a result, I have come up with 5 video theories that are in progress as I write this letter. I love the fact these animations can get your imagination running wild. After a while, I need to come back to “reality” and I end my monthly genre binge with a more adrenaline-based viewing.
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Mood 5 : (Action Packed Genre)
Finally, I end my monthly binge with some blood-rushing special effects and ass-kicking films/tv shows. I usually get into this mood after watching manga turned into anime shows where the fight scenes get my blood pumping. My favorite action film is a mix of horror/action, and it is “Blade”. I know that is technically “cheating” but his killing vampires and the fight scenes using Wesley Snipes are downright awesome. I always get more inspired to learn self-defense in my spare time as a result of watching an action-packed movie. I’d also venture to say that the actors/actresses also inspire me to get to my ideal body. Special thanks to Halle Berry in “Catwoman” for her perfect curves in tight leather. Standing ovation for Salma Hayek in “Dusk till Dawn” for her two-piece bikini dancer body. Honorable mention shout out to Angelina Jolie for making it cool for girls to look sexy in hunting gear with gun holsters.
After I tire myself out mentally and physically, I give the action genre a break and restart the binge process all over again.
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In conclusion, my taste in movies has changed over the years but my personality has played a role in the films/tv shows I have had the pleasure/displeasure of viewing. I’ve concluded that my rollercoaster always encompasses these 5 main genres. However, they do not always follow the order of the genres listed in this piece. Sometimes, I can have one mood for two to three weeks at a time and I could end up watching one genre for 3 weeks and switch it up at the last minute. (Especially if I am feeling impulsive).
So, I challenge all my TV/FILM fanatics to look into their favorite genres and reflect on their process for picking what they want to watch for the day or month.
Ready, Set, GO!

In the realm of whispers, where simple truths twist and turn
Resides the tale of crayons, damaged and yearned.
“They still bring color ” they say, with a glance
Those who have tried know its a flawed dance.

For crayons though vibrant and bold
Struggle, in hands that fail to hold.
The canvas awaits, vast and forgiving
Fragmented pieces make coloring less than living.

Coloring, not painting; the distinction is clear
One wields crayons while the other brushes near.
Yet the challenge endures with these parts
Smooth strokes of joy elude us like lost arts.

Lines appear jagged and hesitant, on our quest
With each tiny fragment causing hues to fade best.
The persists “They still bring color indeed ”
Oh how we long for crayons to succeed.

For isn’t true bliss found in slow glides?
In crayons that smoothly coincide?
Yet from brokenness we learn resilience imbued
Colors emerge despite abuse endured.Well you know when it comes to coloring with crayons it’s not as easy, as using the ones. It’s like a story of never giving up and facing our fears. Actually it could even be seen as a metaphor for more than just coloring.

In both life and coloring those who are broken may still manage to leave their impactful marks.. Lets not pretend that it’s just as simple or fair for everyone. We all have our own challenges and obstacles to overcome, both in our lives and, in our endeavors.

I don’t mean to sound conceited
But now I’m focused on respecting me
I’ve lived my life trying to people please,
Finally done with it, I broke free
I need to respect me
By setting boundaries
Boundaries stronger than Titanium
I need to practice saying no
Saying no to compromise
And stand firm in my beliefs, feelings and healing
I need to practice discernment
Keeping my vulnerabilities away from those
Those who only know how to hurt me
I need to practice patience
That word used to scare me
I used to be so hard on myself for not
Not progressing as fast as others
I need to stop comparing myself
I have my own pace and they have theirs
I need to practice confidence
I need to walk in boldness and grace
Like a Lioness with pride in her prowess
Stomping on the skulls of what used to haunt me
Terrorizing my sleep, making me drowsy
So I can’t live to my full potential with this chronic fatigue
Afraid to sleep because the girl I saw
Seemed to be impossible to be,
So I shut her out to have depression keep me company
I thank my Father for pushing me and encouraged to fight
So i take my sword paired with my shield
Decimating the lies that the demons wield
Their voices no longer linger in my brain
All because I fought without restrain
I wont tolerate what I don’t deserve.
I need to take care of me
So I have the capability to be a blessing to others
I need to put my healing first,
So I don’t bleed on the ones who didn’t cut me.
I need to trust myself,
So I can discern who I can or cannot trust.
I need to respect myself,
So I can respect those I love that surround me.
So that way I’m not plagued by hypocrisy.

A note to my younger self
Dear Ms. Vicki Lawana,
I realize you were raised with a double standard as the after affects of being born in 1949.
You were born on September 18, 1949. The most popular song of that year was “RAGTIME COWBOY JOE” By Jo Stafford. The most popular movie was “MISS GRANT TAKES RICHMOND” starring Lucille Ball and William Holden. A comedy about a secretary who unwittingly helps her boss run a betting parlor.
You have so much potential as a young woman. You were born with so many talents. However, you were told as a woman you had to buckle down take care of your man. You questioned that point of view by asking questions of all the family. You thought maybe you were born again, as you looked out your window counting the stars asking the universe why you were here in this house, with this family and now what? You hear a choir singing from far away, as though the angels answered your question.
You grew up learning to play the piano for hours, writing music, singing the blues. Your mom and grandma were your biggest fans.
But as time went on you were told you could not be a singer or none of the things you were interested in at that time. There were only four things a woman was allowed to do in 1949.
1. Secretary
2. Housewife, baby maker, home maker
3. Nurse
4. Retail clerk
Then when your dad tried to teach you mechanics, your mom told you, “Baby girl, ladies don’t work on cars.” So, you went inside the house crying tears of pain because your poppa was your hero. Your mom did not know any better. Your poppa told your mom. “Honey, there will be a time when ladies do work on cars. At least I wanted to teach her the basics.”
Your dad worked long hours except he never worked on a Sunday as that was his family time. Your poppa bought you all the latest rock n roll of the 60s and 70s. Music was the go-to for everything in your family.
You visited a nightclub when you were 15, jumping on stage singing “I’m Sorry” by Brenda Lee.
Of course, you were only 15 and your dad found you, pulled you off stage. Sometime after that you quit singing or playing the piano. That was devastating to you. You would sit in your room writing songs and lyrics listening to all the latest bands.
You grew up in a male patriarchal society. A woman could not buy a house or car without her husband. You marched in parades for equal rights for women and civil rights for people of color.
When the 70s arrived and the women’s movement had opened doors for women to go to college and not be codependent on their husbands. Your dad sent you to nursing school in 1969. You began college studying business management and journalism. You discovered you had a high IQ of 135. You remember back in 1967 you were told your IQ was 95 below average. You were being prepared to survive in a male patriarchal society where men were smart, and women were 2nd class citizens.
You rebelled against this, but still loved men and not always choosing the best characters.
I want to explain, Ms. Vicki, that you listened to everyone but yet kept going to college and aspiring to fulfill your dreams. You worked at the LA Times when you were 30. However, you were introduced to a dude by his brother that worked there. You married him, had two babies as you thought your time clock was running out. When you landed the job at The LA Times it was not about marriage or babies. So once again you lived your double standard. You were divorced in 1989.
Then you worked with a dude in the music and film industry whom you married.
You never really had to marry anyone or have children to fulfill your womanly desires.
I tell you as younger self, finish your degree, don’t marry because you think you must, work hard, play hard, study hard. It’s your life. Then one day you would meet the artist who respects you as a human being not a 2nd class citizen.
Write those stories, interview the same stars you interviewed with your man, but do these procedures as a woman, educated, strong and successful.
I tell my younger self, Ms. Vicki, you are unique, eccentric, artist. You don’t need a man to make you a whole person. The truth be told it’s the men who need a woman to make them feel like a man.
So as a young woman you can do anything your heart desires and use your own talents in your career not worried about your man. Your man will love you for your strong qualities not just a ragtime cowboy side kick, but as a partner in life, a friend, a lover.
GO FOR GUSTO, MS. VICKI!
The rock song of 2023 was “Angry” by The Rolling Stones. The best movie was “Love at First Sight” by Netflix. Have we changed in the last decades? Yes, there are many changes. We stream music and movies through the internet. Web no longer have to go to the theater or concerts to see stars.
There is a group of people in America today who want women to go back to 1949. Ms. Vicki, please work not to let this happen. If there was a time machine I would like to sit and talk to my younger self to tell you, do not marry just because it’s the trend. Do not have babies just because your internal clock is ticking. Study, work, play but do it on your own please.
Ms. Vicki, you love your kids and grands very much. Surly you know your kids and grands have so many choices as men or women. There’s a new future ahead. There’s a rainbow of colors spreading all over the land. The Earth turns in motion to the beat of eternity as learn to move forward for equality for all.

In a world of toes and heels
There resides a villain, fibrous and real.
Plantar fibromatosis, a foe
Transforms my feet into a peculiar grind.

Nodules and bumps they sprout with delight,
Turning shoes, into foes that plot through the night.
Every step brings a wince and a frown,
Oh why must these growths be so renowned?

I tread with caution like a stroll
Avoiding pressure to maintain some control.
These fibrous companions have their say
Playing tricks on my feet day, after day.

I yearn for shoes that offer respite
They taunt me creating an odd plight.
“Give it your shot ” I say with a grin
I’ll hobble forward making every step akin!

So here’s to plantar fibromatosis my amusing companion,
Transforming each stride into an union.
I’ll Wiggle as I manage the scene
With humor and laughter keeping it all serene!

Within the corridors, where the echoes gradually fade
There lies a hidden torment silently made.
In the minds of those who strive and push
Exist battles that few truly recognize.

Amongst the books and academic commotion
Deep shadows lurk, a hush, in motion.
For college souls burdened and weary
Depressions hold becomes a cloak to carry.

Assignments pile up expectations soar
Yet within storms rage and hearts deeply sigh.
Smiles become faint behind veils they wear
Concealing pain that’s far from being clear.

Isolation hides within spaces grand
Loneliness conceals itself with a friendly hand.
Lost in the whirlwind of ceaseless days pace
Depression whispers its message in ways.

Craving solace amidst a crowds embrace
Unheard cries and emotions shrouded with grace.
Yearning for light to pierce through the gloom
In this labyrinth searching for a room.

Oh college hearts! Burdened and fragile you may be
Your struggles remain unseen behind your veil so free.
Know this; in darkness glimmers shall rise,
Guiding you beyond murky skies disguise.

Reach out! Let voices break through the nights hold tight
And find strength and light together as one might.
For, in shared burdens healing can be found profound
And through empathys embrace hope can truly abound.

Within the depths of this disguise
I find solace away from my cries.
This fabric cloak shields me from prying eyes
Hiding scars I keep hidden from the skies.

“Do you feel a chill?” they kindly inquire,
Unaware of the burning soul within my fire.
In this jacket I quietly confide,
The secrets of battles where emotions collide.

Beneath these layers lies a map of pain
Each moment etched on skin that couldn’t be restrained.
Hidden cuts and scars silently plead,
Visible, to me marking my need.

Each thread and stitch that holds it tight
Creates a refuge where judgment takes flight.
Shielding these scars with an embrace so strong
Concealing the struggle in a space where it belongs.

So when they ask, “Are you feeling cold my dear?”
I offer them a smile despite my fear.
This colossal jacket seems like attire
But beneath its surface it veils my desires.

Loving yourself is not easy
Thinking about it makes me dizzy.
My head spirals like the wind
I think about what could have been
Would my love for myself be different if I had not let society’s opinion take me on this tailspin?
I wish I were a dog
Not remembering their last internal sin.
Giving myself love should not be difficult
But my happiness does not come from within!
Relying on others for my happiness will never allow me to feel that “win”
All it does is cause me to throw my accomplishments into the trash bin
However, it’s never too late to recycle
Recognizing where I have been.
Self-love is hard
But life is like a sport
Always giving you a chance to get that comeback win
Before I throw my accomplishments in the bin
Not remembering where I have been
I certainly will remember this poem and its satisfaction.
I love myself because I know I can win!

Hello in there, is your head working yet? Here just take another pill.
For breakfast every morning I have a colorful array of meds.
Just so I can fit in, I hate it I really do. don’t worry here’s another pill to cheer you up, one to keep u from your nightmarish dreams. One to stay awake, one for pain, another to be in a. Good mood, one to make you stay in a good mood. but it might take a few meds to find the right one
My mind feels perfectly fine.
Another appointment? Let’s change it up. A few MG’s up a few down.
Are you ready for another round
Ya, I’m down.
I hear a sound. Let’s wing it this timeIt’ll be fine, You’ll feel so much better. You might even get a little thinner.
Who knows, the sky’s the limit! That’s the ticket, keep on taking them they’ll keep on making em.
Addicting those that are weak, and seem to only seek The ones they can critique….

I was asked why I loved myself.
Hmm, that’s a good question.
Could it be because of how well I play with the cards that have been dealt?
How I managed to cure myself of depression?
How I chosen to turn every loss into a lesson?
Maybe the compassion I have, not only for others but also for myself?
You’d think that I’d be put first in that previous sentence but, I’ve just recently learned how to give myself grace.

I love how big my heart is.
So big that I’ve allowed it to misguide me at times.
I’ve allowed people to break it plenty of times.
But I love that, no matter how many times it broke, I chose to pick up the pieces and heal them on my own.
I love my optimism and my willingness to be open-minded.
Seeing the glass half full & being open to all possibilities has kept me together.
If it weren’t for that, my life would be completely different.

I love & embrace the good, the bad, and the ugly within myself, because if I don’t, how can someone else?
Don’t get me wrong, some people will love you no matter how much or little you love yourself.
But the ones who don’t, are the manifestations of your internal reality.
All based on how you believe you’re perceived in this world.
So I choose to love myself because that’s what love is.
Choosing to put effort into committing to the relationships in your life
No matter how difficult it may be

Love is choosing to accept the people in your life for all that they are.
And letting go of trying to control things you cannot
I cannot control the people that have tried to make me hate myself.
I can only see how little love they may have for themselves & show compassion.
And so I choose to do the same for myself.
I choose to accept & love all of myself
Because I am so ever deserving of it.

You’re Confident
You’re Beautiful
You’re Loving
You’re Kind
This beautiful heart that has developed
To care about individuals as much as you do
The confidence you truly found in you
I’m proud and love the woman I’ve become
It took me a long time to get here
You’re a queen
You’re a goddess
You are it
No one can take this away from you
You made it Vision
You love you
You don’t doubt yourself anymore
You believe in you
I love who you have grown into
A true Vision of Love

My body,
What do you think of when I say that phrase ?

Do you cringe in disgust or feel a deep praise?

Whichever side you find yourself on the line..
let me tell you about mine, and how an injury to my spine..

Completely changed the way that I lived life,
I’m grateful to be a father, because my surgeons weren’t sure if I could give life,

Even though it’s uncomfortable I’m thankful for this steel wear,
because the alternative, was being 23 in a wheelchair,

This shit got on my nerves,
especially after finding out that I had nerve damage,
I wasn’t disabled but definitely at a disadvantage.

I had to change my vantage point, and be thankful that my joints and tendons and bones-
overcame their adversity to reclaim my home.

My body.

the only place I know I get to live in,

I need to start honoring it and begin to forgive it.
There’s things I deal with but maybe you’re different,

Maybe you can’t help that you have a genetic diagnosis,
my heart shatters for every woman with endometriosis.

Maybe you have anxiety and depression,
maybe you carry an epipen and dread the day you need to press it.

Or maybe you suffer from Disphormia, or anorexia,

Or adhd, austism, dyslexia

But then again
Maybe you’ve never felt sexier,
Do your eyes turn to stone when you pass by a mirror,
But please open them and to see yourself clearer.

Seek out , don’t turn the other cheek baby let your cheeks out!
Let your freak out,

Speak out, no! speak up
to your body and give it praises,
cuz even if you despise it, each day it still raises..

you… out of your bed.

So , get of your head if you can, because just like you, the rest of us are doing the best we can.

But i get it, not feeling in love with yourself.

Man I really use to be in incredible shape,
Then I got injured and really struggled with my weight,
I would starve my self and would hate what I ate ,
I could feel judging eyes removing things from my plate.

But now I’ve accepted that I no longer need to be that athlete, my varsity days are over, I’m not going to the track meet,

I don’t need to complete great athletic feats anymore,
just want to play with and pick up my son,

I need to be thankful for what my body can do right now, rather than miss out on what it’s already done,

Why are we so concerned with the way we look rather than the way we feel,
we put our bodies through so much pain and never allow them to heal.

Also,
Let me just shout out to all the mothers!
Because you should love your body more than all the others,

So what ? you may have stretch marks, those battle scars makes you look more womanly,
you are everything that a man couldn’t be !

For you did the most physically demanding thing there is and gave birth.
A woman’s body is the most powerful thing on earth!

Your body has gone through a lot it’s changed I understand, but please, don’t hate your body for what it can’t do, and love it for what it can.

I was in awe of the whimsies and romance.
I yearned for my art to comfort and soothe;
For my art to hold the listener’s hearthurt the way my hearthurt was held,
For my art to share imagery with songs of love,
To create beauty in death as he created it.

I wanted to be Hozier, but I have to be Poe, first.

I have to walk through my Inferno to reach such actualization.
My shadow still screams. Still cries.
Pieces of my younger self scattered in nine circles.

I have to talk to her and make peace with her.
I have to parent her.
I have to hold her.
I have to become one with her once more.

I will blood, guts, and gore my way through,
Just as the horrors led my way in.
The girl that wants to scream will scream and
Embrace the gross and the weird and the upset.

I will not become my own betrayer, no. So,
I am no longer my own betrayer, mine own Nth circle.
Treachery at mine own hands, no more.

Dear Unsealers,
I came up with an analogy to describe a battle with anxiety, I hope one can read this and feel less alone in their battles, or better yet, it will not resonate with you.

What every therapist tells you sounds a lot like stop, drop, and roll.
Firemen say that when there is an urgent flame upon you.
When you get anxious,
A therapist will tell you:
“Breathe, look around you, and slow down.”
But it’s easy when a fireman tells you the 3 simple steps.
You see the problem,
you put the flame out,
and you double check while on the floor.
But when in a panic attack;
You are already breathing too much,
looking around, you see everything inciting the anxiety to begin with.
And when you slow down,
You see how tired you really are.
Tired of putting out the flame,
every day,
every night,
only for it to reappear again and again.
Like a video game;
Bleep, bleep,
You lost five points.
You touched the fire ball.
And yet the whole time, you are repeating the steps.
“Karen, where did I go wrong this time?”
“I breathed!”
“I saw three colors!”
“I slowed down!”
“But then why am I burned?”
“Why am I covered in ash
Am I supposed to turn into a phoenix?”
“Or is the smoke clouding my vision?”
“That must be it
When I breathe the smoke is ingested to my lungs,
when I look around it’s all in dust,
when I slow down,
the flame engulfs me.”
“Haha, thanks Karen,
now I can’t feel anything.”
Numb to the fire.
Numb to the pain.
Now I’m just ash,
Watch me drift away.

In a world of doubts, like a Rubik’s cube,
Some wanted to peel off labels, misconstrue.
But within me, colors danced bright,
A puzzle unique, a mesmerizing sight.

Therapists spoke of limits, an unkind fate,
But my parents, they didn’t hesitate.
They knew the stickers, they wouldn’t be torn,
Their love, like glue, strong and reborn.

Teachers, allies, in my journey of might,
Saw my puzzle, each color so bright.
From Special Ed, to mainstream flight,
They saw the pattern, beyond black and white.

I found my voice, embraced the hue,
A rainbow within, a story anew.
Now a mentor, lending my hand,
Guiding others to understand.

My tale, a Rubik’s cube so bold,
Unpeelable stickers, a story untold.
I stand here, a beacon, shining true,
Empowerment’s force, breaking through.

So here’s to us, each color, each side,
For every woman, a unique ride.
May my story echo, inspire the new,
Empowering others, to be true.

Dear Unsealers,

I often fall into bouts of deep melancholy and sadness when I think about my life prior to coming out. I’ve learned that expressing my feelings immediately through poetry prevents me from sliding into a longer state of depression. I write, I cry, and I liberate the feelings from my mind. This has helped me so much over the last two years, it has literally saved my life.

Yesterday it happened again, and here is the result of my catharsis as I thought about my partner and all he has brought into my life. Thank you.

DEEP WATERS

You pulled me out of sadness

Like a fish caught on a hook

Loving me is all it took

Though the struggle was madness

Without will, without purpose

Your strength was a taut lifeline

As I drowned in my tears’ brine

And was pulled to the surface

Now I sit on our live’s pier

Letting sunlight dry my skin

And with your love, then begin

To breathe again warm summer air

Even now sometimes i have my moments
Moments where i feel like
I’m gonna fall apart
Can’t let it consume me
Let it go
Breathe just breathe
You’ve come so far
To go back
I know it hurts
You cry when you don’t want to
It’s trying to release
He’s gone
Your dad is gone
In the wind
You severely question
How can he not love you
Not be there for their for you
To still have breath in your lungs
But alas be gone
I never thought you would leave me again father
Why don’t you want me
When i am made up of half of your DNA
I can’t even say i hate you
I Love you Dad
But i have to let you go
You abandoned me
Came back
Left again
Came Back
Left again
Why come if you never intended to stay
Leave
You can’t be the reason
Theirs’s no peace
I will always love you
I have to live
To explore
Without a painful memory of you
Here is our long distance goodbye

Outward beauty is fleeting

Taken away by the years

Like waves brushing sand back into the sea

But a beautiful souls never fades

It shines brighter, like a perennial diamond, as the years progress

When our outward mask fades away

The beautiful soul can be seen, fully, in all its splendor

Why do we confuse physical beauty with permanence,

When we know full well its ephemeral nature?

Why not, instead, seek to make ourselves beautiful on the inside,

And have that live forever?