An angel sits, pondering with a stone and a stick in hand, wondering to herself what she will get into today. Lost in thought, she tries to figure out how she can empower her day to be more to her liking. As she contemplates, she watches her cat zoom up and down the living room while her beast shuffles through the clutter, searching for something to do next. Outside, an elephant roams through her garden, treating her delicate plants as if a storm were brewing, although it is just another typical day. As the angel gathers her thoughts, the skies seem to empower her mind, even though she feels blank. As the breeze flows through the day, she hopes her creativity will spark new adventures.

Time passes while we hold onto hope, yet the fear of waiting for that hope can create a rift that tears things apart. People often say that hope can be a powerful force for overcoming challenges, but what if the hope you’re waiting for leads to different outcomes? Some may anticipate a positive change in their lives, while others might feel that it could bring about the worst situation imaginable. So, ask yourself: what do you do when hope finally arrives? How do you determine whether things will get better or worse?

Hello, writing community. I wanted to introduce myself. I’m a single mother of three kids: two daughters, aged 15 and 10, and a son who would have turned 3 this year, but sadly, he passed away four years ago.

Since I got remarried in 2022, I haven’t accomplished much in my life. I’ve been trying to re-enter the workforce after losing my most recent job due to medical issues and not having a car at the moment. I’ve recently been looking for work-from-home jobs because I’ve been advised that, given my current circumstances, I can only pursue positions that allow me to work at a desk or from home.

I am capable of doing computer work, cleaning houses, babysitting, or caring for pets. However, without a car, it has been challenging to find jobs elsewhere.

Currently, I receive a disability check and live with several conditions, including ADHD, PTSD, ODD, BPD, anxiety, and bipolar disorder. Additionally, I suffer from IBS, GERD, gastritis, sciatica, stress fractures, COPD, bradycardia, and sinus arrhythmia. My life can be complicated, but I do my best to function daily, even though I’m 35 and not as active as I would like to be.
I’m now back in the world, looking for something new. If you’d like to get to know me or comment on my material, feel free to message me anytime.

I can’t say I’m scared
nor terrified
It’d make me look
as if I’m a hypocrite

I’ve been comfortable
for far too long
Letting someone in will
cause so much fog

I deserve to be loved
not just by me
But loved by a king.

I deserve to be
someone’s queen.

Her world was so black.
It consumed even
the slightest of color.
Her journal was the only
place she felt
safe to wander.
Decades later
Color is the brightest consumption.
Her journal – softest eraser
to her nervous system.

You, my sir.
Yes, you.
There’s going to be hard days.
Even easy days.
You, the person reading this,
Has the opportunity to make
The day a great one.

You, my sir.
Yes, you.
Of course it’s going
To be full of ups & downs.
That’s the beauty of life.

It’s your duty as a human
To break the negative branches
And build such glory
From the leftover twigs.

You, my sir.
Yes, you.
I believe in you.
I see you.
I love you.

Courage it takes courage .young mom working three jobs just barely surviving. Grown up now into an adult she never gave up she never stopped trying. She got up everyday and gave every morning the best she had. Her own family knew whe was different instead of the support they gave her a backhand. She made her own goals her own dreams and her own family. The only thing that kept her going was her faith which lead to her victories over the enemy. Here she sits in the middle of another battle it’s difficult but there’s one thing she knows this is her year her moment and every time the enemy thought he broke her, she got up gave the pain a purpose and pushed stronger. Her children and her heavenly father were here motivation to change the world we live in starting with her . She started in the mirror daily stating affirmations that she was worth it Jeremiah 29 11 being her most favorite. She made her bed in the am did her makeup and got dressed to impress even if she wasn’t going anywhere to her this made perfect sense. She didn’t for in in the world because she was changed when Christ came Into her life. Her presence has an essence a sweet aroma, it draws people in miles from her. Her presence lights up the businesses and rooms, some of which don’t want to charge her because they know there’s just something about her. Everywhere she goes she gets gifts she uses to think it was just a coincidence. Thankful greatful and this girl is definitely blessed.

Dear Unsealers,

It’s the first day of June.

Though, you wouldn’t know it by the way the wind is raging outside right now. It’s actually chilly. As if the season’s are signaling that a change is up ahead.

With the new month beginning, it’s only right to welcome it in. I’ll do so here…

Time is flying by
The month of June has arrived

Thirty new days are here
Spring’s around, not much longer
There’s a hint of warmth ahead
Summer’s near

A month to honor our fathers
And be in awe of the Pride on display

Otherwise, it’s another blank slate
Of wondering how to fill time

To keep the dancing days going
Or, take a beat to clear my head

Six months into the year
With the halfway point of 2025 almost here

I wonder silently…
How did we get here?
Where’s everything going?

Sitting here at this table
With thoughts running wild
Thoughts of how
I’ve made it this far
From where I’ve come
Thoughts of wanting
To quit this journey
For I’m the only one on it

Sitting here at this table
With such appreciation
For what I’ve created
Appreciation that some days
Feel as if I may relapse
For how great I’ve been
Appreciation for what
Was given to me
In the mix of
The black shades of life

Sitting here at this table
Grieving the me
That was abducted
From the black shades
Grieving the me
Who is no longer
Available for reach
Grieving the one
That is today
For tomorrow is new

Here I sit at this table
With such praise in my heart
Praise in my step
Knowing it’s okay to relapse.
Praise in my soul
Knowing each version of me
Will end in an abduction

This table is my healing space
And it’s not for everyone

As the world basked in sunshine and heat, majestic creatures roamed. In the sea of green, small fire holes began to appear, creating a striking contrast. The flames grew larger, popping out of the holes as the vibrant green liquid spread across the river. This dynamic activity caused the fire holes to diminish in size, especially as waves of blue took over the river, with birds joyfully calling out their laughter. When the sun set, it revealed that the river glowed with even more blue, and the once-visible fire holes had completely vanished.

A mountain is on the verge of erupting. A layer of thick skin is evolving over the fire, but the layers are running thin. Water comes down from the heavens to soothe the fire, but the ashes are reaching their highest peak. In the end, the altitude runs short, causing the mountain to dry up and break apart. Will it ever reach the light again and restore its peak?

As the water trickles down, the foundation begins to crack under pressure, just as the bruises fade. The wind in the air is thin, even as time counts down to the end. When will the light finally grow into an unbreakable chain?

My story is about a woman who had two kids between the ages of 21 and 25. She had two girls who are now 15 and 10. After she had her second child, she made one of the hardest decisions she now regrets. She decided to have her tubes tied and an ablation done because she knew, deep down, that she couldn’t take care of another child due to personal reasons. Despite her belief that she would never have kids again, seven years later, after getting remarried, she found out she was going to have another baby.

She was shocked when she took two home pregnancy tests. She thought, “How is this possible?” Her doctor had told her that the procedure was supposed to be effective, but after two exams were done, the first test revealed that the procedure, after all this time, hadn’t worked, and the second test revealed that there was indeed a baby. Unfortunately, she ended up miscarrying, and all that was left was the gestational sac. She was only two months along, and even though she didn’t yet know the sex of the baby, she wanted to honor him by imagining him as a boy since her partner also had girls.

She was devastated and decided to create a memorial for him. She made a plaque, had a memory box with angel wings, and a special Christmas ornament with his name and the message “In Loving Memory.” She also chose a tattoo for her arm featuring wings, a golden halo, and blue feet to represent him. Her parents even made her a special present to honor their first grandson. They crafted a family of bears, with the mom bear and each of her cubs. She took it home, wrote each of her babies’ names on it, and gave them a special paint color.

Every year, she takes a moment to honor her son and reflects on what he would have looked like if he had loved his sisters and how big he would have been. Many questions run through her mind: What would he have grown up to be? Who knows?

Dear Samantha Allen, I decided to write to you now that you are 35 years old. I wanted to share with you your journey and what you will be looking forward to if you decide to go on this same path I have endured. See, after you were having your careless life with your boyfriend, I wanted to warn you that the life you were thinking you were going to have with him isn’t what you would want to believe. After his school journey decided to finally leave you were left alone with just your friends that you still talked to now and then. I remember when we were getting ready to come back into the fall and our last journey was about to begin but you were struggling with the classes for the first six weeks and as you were sitting in the Spanish class the teacher told you that at the end of your senior year there was this big project coming up called the senior quest. I wanted to let you know that even though I felt scared and nervous, I did the wrong thing I have regretted since. After our boyfriend left on his journey, I kept thinking that I had lost my train of will to keep going through school. I ended up losing interest in everything they had when I found that I was already failing the 1st six weeks. I decided to go to our school guidance counselor and wanted to talk to him about dropping out and leaving school. I wish to warn you that it would be a waste of time to even attempt. They kept taking all of our records and kept trying to show me that I was so close to finishing, I didn’t need to leave, but they wouldn’t let me without mom and dad to sign off. Well, forget it cause you think Dad would have let you get away with that. Fat chance, both of them kept giving me a speech that you ain’t going to be a high school dropout that won’t make it at all. We want you to succeed and go to college for an art degree or photography since we know you love to draw and take pictures all the time. You will even argue with them that, well, you have to be 18 to drop out, well, they tried to keep me there after we were close to turning 19, but they wouldn’t let me out there until someone rescued me to pick me up. After I had a long talk with my mom, we agreed that I would go get my GED, so I finally got to leave that place. Let me be the one to tell you it was the worst mistake I made in my entire life. Since then, I went to take the GED after 2 times, and I ended up getting so close, but you know how we are when it comes to math. It ended up getting the best of us, and we almost passed. Since then, I decided to give up the studies and just go find work, even though it was under the radar, but I ended up managing to find work okay. After going back from job to job in different years. I managed to mess around where I shouldn’t and decided before I had my 21st birthday to become a mother, well, let me tell you it was a mistake. Now I’m not saying that having them was a mistake, I just think, honestly, I wasn’t ready to bring a new life into my life. I ended up struggling very hard after her dad abandoned me while I was 2 months pregnant, and even had the nerve to deny that she was his. Even though after our battles went south, I had plenty of opportunities to find her a father figure, but I didn’t need it. I had the support of our family to help me through, even though I should have listened to my mom and just waited until I was a little more mature to handle raising a baby. After that, when I finally realized I couldn’t have the love of my life, I decided to take on a new chapter. Everything was fine at first, but the true colors ended up coming out at the worst time, more so after I found out a second child was coming into the mix. I tried everything in my power to keep the family whole, but then a certain match went off in my head with everything I was put through by him, I ended up divorcing him and left later on. I know I didn’t go into too much detail with you, but I don’t wish to scare you cause I want you to know, as you’re reading this, maybe you will take better precautions and find the right ways to deal with it all like I did. I ended up after a while ended up after 2021, getting remarried. I ended up having a total of 3 kids, but sadly enough, one of my children ended up passing away due to a miscarriage, so after that, I ended up with only my first one. I know you would probably ask what happened to our second child, while the long story short, she was taken away from me by an organization called Child Protective Services. There was a long going mishap between our daughter’s dad and her sister and it ended up in turmoil with the court system after fighting to keep with her me they got me for our mental health issues and accused me of neglecting her when all I was also trying to do was make our life better especially for her. Well, that didn’t convince them enough that everything I was trying to do for her wasn’t enough, so now she has been gone for 3 years. Since then, we got remarried, we now have two stepdaughters, 10 and about to be 8. Since then, life has not been as easy as you think. I have been struggling now more here lately with taking care of my home, trying to work out my marriage, making sure my health stays the way it needs to be, and trying to figure out my next career move to help out with the finances besides our monthly check. So, pretty much when you read this, don’t be scared, I just want to make sure that you know what you’re facing and hopefully make our future different then what I’m living in now. I wish you the best in your upcoming adventures. GOOD LUCK

Dear Unsealers,

“Bucephalus” is a protest poem about the violence we inherit, the pain we normalize, and the strength it takes to break those cycles. I wrote it to examine the ways masculinity can be distorted by trauma, and how empathy often gets buried beneath performance. This poem speaks to the cost of silence and the quiet resilience of those who choose tenderness in a world that teaches them to harden. It’s a reminder that even the deepest wounds can bloom into something honest—and that too is power.

Bucephalus
The formation of the soul is a seed in the earth,
forged in pressure, blooming through trauma.
Divine mother, singer of arias—
violence takes the limbs from a miner
in an act of endless cruelty.
The acrid scent of sulphur is the last gravestone
where innocence mourns at midday.
By the deathbed of an absent father,
or the bedside of a son who accepts affection
in the slap of abuse’s caress.
We live in a world of dogs dressed up as lions.
One’s suffering is another’s pleasure. Homophobic chauvinism—
masked insecurity; an aversion to kindness,
to the laughter of children.
Those who piss have prayers as well.

A soul adrift in uncharted terrain, she questions all she’s known. Past trials seemed unbearable, yet now she doubts every step. Her words, a desperate cry, poured onto pages in verse and prose. But from her lines, I sense no escape, only loss and shattered dreams. Everything she stood for, believed, and fought for all for nothing.

Life is like walking on a bridge; it can crumble and break when the energy is off. Twists and turns will appear along the way. When you find yourself in a tough spot, breathing becomes harder when there’s nowhere to run. The mind and balance can only handle so much, and if you’re alone, there’s no escape. How can one person sort everything out and stay alive?

A woman without her chariot has lost all hope and ponders. She sighs, thinking, “How much more can the atmosphere around me crumble?” In the lost cage that was her home, she counted the days and waited patiently for some light to appear.

Hello there sunshines, I am here with some great news you can naturally overcome depression and anxiety. The bible teaches us how to naturally balance the positive and negative emotions in our lives. It’s ok at the darkest moments In Our lives to go to the doctor and get the help needed at that moment, he made doctors for a reason. What’s not okay is to rely on that medication to fix al of your childhood and adult relationship traumas. God has walked me through deliverance and a Beautiful way to enjoy life, focus on self love and hear his voice and tune out the world. Here are some tips on how to live life to the best of your ability on a budget. First find a job that u enjoy not have to show up to everyday ,but want to show up to and take pride in your work daily. Second find an area where just u and God can bear each other’s voices. God showed me and my sister in Christ this past year so many ways to see and appreciate his beauty from door dashing, in multi states ,to visiting museums and botanical gardens, to Learning about plants animals and history and it was a great stress reliever. Everyday for the past year doordash paid for our museum trips ,air b and b , and food and gas as we traveled America. We stayed in the tri state area and everything was within four hours of home.Our daily budget for spending was 20.00 most of the time it ended up under that price range. The third thing God helped me with to not be stressed and depressed was laying all of life’s problems at his feet and he gives us rest as it states in scripture. Picture yourself with one carryon bag then another suitcase and before u know it your carrying the entire planes luggage. This analogy is our lives we tend to worry and fear and pickup baggage that doesn’t belong to us. Cast your cares upon him and he will give u rest Amen. The fourth way to get rid of anxiety and depression is by using sensory things from your environment. This consist of smelling hearing seeing tasting and touching. I find for me nature walks running waterfalls and rivers,coloring on sidewalks with chalk, photographing nature and just being youself in general, traveling to local places, interacting with animals both tame and wild, and social distancing when needed work best. When noises around us are loud and overbearing putting on headphones and listening to something encouraging helps. Get in the habit of finding the daily verse that speaks life and encouragement into your soul and live out your purpose, 💓 u are loved I pray this helps the mass numbers and you can get peace in your hearts and enjoy your life much love and light 🕯️

Dear Lord,

We’ve had a lot of talks lately. Some good, some not so good. I’ve prayed for a couple ambulances and high schoolers and the parents for the infants at my school.

I’ve prayed for less anger, more sleep, less anxiety about the world. For the United States, for Gaza, for Syria and Lebanon and Yemen and the Congo…

For guidance.

I’m not the best of Jews, I know that. I don’t eat kosher like I should, I often forget my nightly prayers, I work on the sabbath. I know I’m not the best.

I try. I fast and I repent and I want to learn more about you Lord. I feel like the older I get, that I feel closer to you. I pray to you in good and in bad times. Our relationship has its valleys and mountains but I know you better. You’ve always known me though.

There’s a lot of suffering in the world. Time is marching backwards underneath my feet and I feel like I cannot make the world stand still. Or continue the original path or rotation. I pray in the hopes that you will be able to guide the right people to the right paths soon. Existence is a form of resistance, right?

Poetry feels a lot like prayer. I take a pen to my carotid artery and bleed all over these little letters, in hopes that it will string together coherent words. Using a young language to spill these feelings that I’m not quite sure have names. I pour it all out, I step back, and realize the feeling is duller now that it’s no longer in me.

That’s what prayer feels like to me.

I don’t know why, Lord, you made me this way. I know there must be a reason, there’s always a reason but I cannot see it. And I want to see it. I know you don’t make mistakes but— why do I feel like I am one?

I don’t feel like a good sister, a good friend, a good daughter, a good lover. I feel like I’m selfish. Spoiled. I demand too much. Give too little. A hypocrite. A liar.

Sometimes I don’t feel human. I’m so angry sometimes, Lord, that I just want to scream!!

Sometimes I just wanna grab someone and slap the living shit out of them. I wanna make someone feel as horrible as I do. I want them to feel every punch, kick, stab, slice, grope and rape that I have experienced. Then I feel horrible for wishing this fate on a nonexistent person and I pray for forgiveness. I know it’s an intrusive thought, I know I’d never do such a thing. But it kills me when I think about it.

There are times that I wanna go into an empty field and just scream into it. Sob as hard as I want for as long as I want. No one to eavesdrop, no one to watch. Just lose it fully for once.

I need that.

I’ve prayed to you about some things that I didn’t mean. I prayed to die many times. I know you know I didn’t mean that, which is why I’m still here.

I’ve prayed why my boyfriend doesn’t love me. I know he does, I just wish I could feel it like I know it. He adores me. He loves me. I need a little help remembering that Lord. If you have the time to spare, I’d greatly appreciate that.

I think- I think I struggle to believe I can be loved. Years of hurt can do that to a person. I try so hard to make sure those I love never feel the way I felt. Unlovable. Broken. No longer human. I don’t know if I’ve ever had a relationship outside of my childhood best friends that made me feel like a person.

When my boyfriend and I started dating it felt like someone had reignited a previously stamped out candle. Now the wick is burning but there’s no wax to cling to. I am so fucking lonely G-d. If you ever have a spare moment, enter my dreams and remind me that I am not alone. Remind me of my partner, my brother, my friends. Remind me of the job I love, the life I’ve chosen, the skills I possess. You’ve got bigger things to worry about than me, but I’d like to not be forgotten. Don’t forget to remember me in that whirlwind of human chaos you’ve come to know.

I know that I just have to grit and bear some of it like a big girl. I know that I have to fight. But I— I don’t have a lot of fight in me right now.

So Lord, if you could do this for me, I’d greatly appreciate it. If you could instill in me the need to fight, the need to claw my way out, I will claw my way out.

Amen,