Dear Unsealers:

It’s Easter Sunday.

For those that celebrate the day, I hope that it’s an enjoyable day for you. I hope that everyone has a wonderful Sunday, no matter where in the world you are.

Here’s to the hope and possibility after the lenten season has concluded.

With a nod to the Urbi et Orbi message from the Pope in Rome, this is my message from NYC to the world:

After forty days of Lent
Easter Sunday has arrived

A day to celebrate
The rising of the son of God

With euphoric joy in the holiest spirit
We praise all that life brings

With the world blooming all around
Everything’s possible!

From me to you and yours
From NYC to the world…

Happy Easter!
¡Felices Pascuas!

Pazko on!
Bona Pasqua!

Joyeuses Pâques!
Buona Pasqua!
Cásca Shona!

Feliz Páscoa!
Καλό Πάσχα!
Sretan Uskrs!

Mary Jane got me ohh so high,
Your genetics done changed my life.
I thank God to this very day, for
Another peaceful night, for word play.
You’ve done evolved my DNA.
Oh how I love your,
Potent indica dominant strains.
Sparks the receptors, as I search
To put these words in place.
Oh how I love your vibrant fragrance.
I love how help me through,
The stressful day’s.
Got neurons flooding
My brain. Looking for and
Connecting different things to say,
You spark my imagination.
Opening up a variation of
Ways. When I was hurt
You helped me innovate.
Had to do this for a special occasion.
Was built off some chronic
Mixed in with a Lil pain.
A different meaning
For “chronic pain”.
Might have to get a prescription
Just to keep me sane.
Had to celebrate your holiday.
Happy 4-20 it’s a special day.

This life… is but a vapor… without a second thought you’d capture the moment by taking a pen to your wrist…
And letting your heart bleed out on the paper….
Inspiration, devastation, any other proclamation…
Yet trying to write now just feels like forced dedication…
What happened to that fire? That desire? It’s like our pen has dried up, and the situations dire
What happened to the endless words rattling around that drove us to the brink of insanity?
What happened to the ability to tug at the heartstrings of humanity?
People used to say that what we wrote felt so real…
But it’s because your words expressed our heart unsealed…
All our pain, all our anguish,
Every unfulfilled wish
Even as we traversed from glory to glory,
Your words expressed our story
Yet stressed here I am
Trying to string together words that don’t mean a damn thing
There’s no voice, there’s no heart…
How can I read what I write now, and try to say that it’s art?
Posting poems from the past, but how long can that last?
I am not you, and I fear that our time together is through…
Like how were you able to write an entire poem from being hit by a droplet of dew?
You could put one hundred and ten poems inside of a book
All to tell one story, simply from its tones alone;
All our highs and our lows
Our joys, and our woes…
But I’m sitting here now like, “is this as far as it goes?”
Have I nothing more than this?
Here I stand at my precipice
Grasping at the wind beyond my reach
With eyes like an ocean, til they burn red
Rivers of dread flow, as I shake and I quiver
Each drop crashes like a tsunami atop this wilted rose I hold in my hand
The petals have been washed away… no beauty remains
Only the thorns buried beneath my flesh, tearing at my very soul
I never would’ve thought writing so much could take such a toll
To break through, I know not what I need
My heart… has run out of blood to bleed…
There’s no path ahead…
Nothing to say that I haven’t already said…
Here I stand at the ledge… ready to lunge…
Ready to take that fateful plunge…
Embracing the free fall…
As I give up on writing anything at all…

But yet in this moment the wind gives its gust
With a gentle whisper it tells me, “trust”
“Walk by faith and not by sight.
There’s no reason for you to be filled with fright.
Take the step and be full of delight.
Harken unto Me, and what I declare.
For together we will dance across the air.
The words that have been shrouded in the clouds will again shine their light.
The voice you seek will soon echo aloud.
Sending ripples, causing waves,
Causing dead bones to rattle in their graves.
Testifying of the One by whom mankind shall be saved.
This isn’t the end of your story.
For I have chosen you to write of Our coming glory.”

Lo! That mercy would look upon my tired eyes
That the winds of heaven would hear my frustrated cries
With no blood left to bleed…
No might, nor power left within myself to carry me through this hour
But by Thy Spirit, I will continue to fight
By Thy Spirit I will continue to write for any who shall hear it
For Thy testimony is my delight
Lo! This shall not be my end
I’m trusting that higher yet I shall ascend
So let ye joyful trumpets sound in celebration
For the shackles and chains of this writer’s block I refuse to succumb
Yay! I say I shall be unbound
I’ll let this Spirit fueled heart beat like a drum of liberation
Pounding with a “bum-bum-de-bum”
This burning sensation shut-up deep in my bones;
Words yet without form… groaning’s waiting to be born
As the tumultuous storm clouds clear… their image draws near…
I can see them…
At last…
I am free…
This weightlessness…
Unburdened by stress…
Yes… I can feel it deep in my core…
If I take this step… I know I shall soar
I shall waltz on the wind, as a sparrow in the daytime
As a spider with its web, I’ll weave these words into rhymes
I’ll mold them into the most lustrous silk
And their taste shall be sweeter than honey and more nutritious than milk
No longer shall I live in fear that I’ll never be the writer you were again
The rose petals of this pen will bloom once more
And now I sit in anticipation to see what creations are in store…
Indeed… this blocks been broken through
For my passions been born anew

Dear Unsealers,
I wanted to share with you a poem I wrote about Time and how we spend our time. At the end of time, what will others remember? I originally started this piece in 2021 & finished in 2023, Taylor Vance.

We have GOOD times
We have BAD times
We have SAD times
We have MAD times
We have GLAD times
We have HARD times & we have felt like time wasn’t on our side.
We have had times of JOY & we have wished that we could avoid a certain time.
We have FOUGHT at times & CRIED at times
We have HIDDEN at times & SHINED at times
There has been times I wish we never had
There has been times we can never take back
There has been times we will never get back
There has been times we talked shit & times we have been up shits creek. And GOD knows we have never been on TIME!!! But I would never rewind time, for it’s only been a short time we have had together, & it’s only going to get better in due time.
For all the hard times we weathered past, present, or future, as we expected.
For the rest of our time, we will make the best of our time to love one another until we have NO more time, while we wait, our story will continue, so in the end, we know we didn’t make a complete mess of our time.
Now I ask you to take a little time to remember how you use your time. Because all you get in this life is TIME & CHOICES, my advice to you is to be wise with both. At the end of time, we are to have No regrets, No second chances, for there will be No time to look back. Because at that time, when our hourglass has finally run out of sand, we can’t flip it over and start again. So what will the ones we leave behind remember of OUR TIME?
Written by: Taylor Vance 2-2023

I’m exhausted but not that lack of 8 hrs of sleep exhausted.
I’m exhausted from putting peoples needs first.
I’m exhausted from checking in with people that don’t check in with me.
I’m exhausted from putting in the work and everyone else just goes on with life.
I’m exhausted from feeling their emotions and suppressing my own.
I’m exhausted and it’s not from the lack of sleep exhausted.
I want to feel alive.
I want to feel refreshed.
I want to feel my own emotions.
Care for my own needs.
I want to escape the burnt stage of life and capture the awareness of the day.
I’m exhausted from being exhausted!
When will I breathe again?
That is the question!

Do you not see how strong you are?
How worthy you are?
How loved you are?

All those sleepless nights prepared you for the best sleeps of your life.
Those uncomfortable mirror talks set you up for those beautiful reflection affirmations.
Those in and out acquaintances part of your life were just props to what led you to today.

The most strongest, worthiest, and lovable woman the Universe could have!

Falling in love ought not be such a terrifying act
Is it as daunting for you as it is for me
I sit in wonder what my life would be
Minus all the heartbreak and perpetual agony
Would I be the type to trust “I love you”
Would I be the type to trust at all
If only I’d been shown
If only the words “I love you” came from those already grown

Look at you so filled with joy
With so many around you to annoy
Not a care in the world seeking new adventures
You’re lucky Mama’s not filled with lectures
Even though she yells “GO PLAY”
You always make the best of your day
I’m here to put it to you clear
You are loved and there’s nothing to fear

Eye see you
Do you see me?
Soul to soul
Yet oceans away.

Is it weird
To not only ask
For one more night—
But for you to stay?

They say love lasts for a lifetime,
But every minute apart
Feels like you’re eons away.

Eye see you.
Eye see the star you are.
I see the parts of your soul
You try to hide.

Could it be
That you are my soul tribe?
Or maybe my mate…
Either way it goes,
This union feels divinely great—
Almost as if it was fate.

Bashert.
Eye see you.
Soul to soul.
Fated love so true.
Eye see you.

Bashert, my love,
For you is destined to be.

⸻

My soul searches for you,
But eye cannot find
Where you are hiding…

Some days I am rain.
Other days, I am earth.
Some days I am air.
Other days, I am fire.

I scorch new paths to rebirth.
But will you still love me the same
On days when I can’t flow like water—
When I bring storms, lightning, and rain?

I might blow my fuse and explode,
Blowing like wind…

But the river of my love is ever flowing
Into oceans of understanding,
Deeper than the cosmos—
The great gift of knowing.

That you are my Baz, and eye you.
My soul sees your soul,
As the light of this
Divine union shines through.

Bashert, my love—Bashert.
For the Divine One
Designed me just for you.

Are our bodies the amazing external shelter
Of the fascinating machinery
That makes the true existence of the psyche possible?
Without this body, this “me”
You cannot know or share any of my thoughts
And that would be the tragedy at hand, soon enough;
So thus,
As long as my mind is held in this body
I will love it and feed it
And take it on walks
And give it warm baths
And tuck it to bed cozy
And I hope you can do the same
In your own safe housing of your soul
So I can hear your sacred thoughts as well,
That only you can speak.

Here I thought you were “the one” with what was programmed from within.
Walking life without you seemed so numb at the time.
Breathing different air than you set for sleepless nights.
I’m so glad you were not “the one.”
My programs from within have switched from fantasy to reality.
Walking life without you has defrosted in the most warmest ways.
Breathing different air from you
has given me better nights of sleep.
The weighted blanket type of sleep.
Here I thought you and I would be the forever type.
Boy, was that such hype.
I’m so glad forever was not for this flight.
Here I thought I’d be together with you, the “love of my life.”
Not knowing that love would be with me years after the blue.

I sit with my internal child outside on the stairs, because I know she wants me to.
She giggles so softly.
Her dimples shine so brightly.
She tells me about her day on the playground swing.
We share a bowl of cheetos, the puffs kind.
We make pictures out of the clouds in the sky.
She sees a puppy. I see a pig.
We even forget about the thing of time.
We get lost in the freshness of Spring air.
Dreaming of what the fields of life has in store for us.
I sit with my inner child outside on the stairs because all she wants is individual love.

As Springtime starts to approach,
I feel such a relief of frozeness.
I feel such relief of stillness.
Springtime for me is a time to feel alive.
Feel free.
It’s a time to let warm sensations caress the body.
Springtime is about growth.
About planting those asparagus seeds and watching what comes from those tiny seeds.
From what once was tiny to what will be extraordinary.
Springtime is like a crayon.
Soft.
Gentle.
Full of creativity.
Full of color.
Full of brightness.
Springtime is like a crayon.
Leaving your mark on what once was to something beautiful.
To something magical.
For some, Springtime can be a time of transformation.
A time to use their personal napkin to cleanup what was to make room for what will be.
As Springtime starts to approach, I leave winter with this…
“Thank you for the lessons.
I’m ready for the homework.
I’m ready to put the frost bites of my past in the freezer of yesterday & open the fridge of growth for today.”

** 3 word prompt poem: Asparagus. Crayon
Napkin **

If we’re playing a game of “I believe,”
I’d like to believe there are past versions of me that get together for frozen yogurt.
They all talk about who I once was
And how I’ve hit all those curveballs of life out of the park.
They don’t “boo” the swings.
Yell rude comments.
Or bring up some of the strikes I’ve received.
They meet for frozen yogurt and cheer me on every single day.
During every single game of life played.

Where has my light gone
That used to twinkle in my eyes?
I feel like I don’t belong
In this body I call mine
I don’t know who I am anymore
Not even a single clue
Maybe I don’t know who I was before
It’s hard to know what’s true
Have I lost myself somehow?
Gone without a trace
Or was I never found
A vessel without a face