People should learn
how to speak like the sun—
direct, warm, no shade unless asked.
Age doesn’t buy you the right
to sharpen your tongue
on someone else’s silence.

Tone cuts deeper than words,
sarcasm isn't seasoning—
it’s a slow poison
unless served in laughter between equals.
Otherwise, it’s a leash
meant to drag dignity through dust.

I’m no saint in this mess.
But even wolves remember
the sting of a snare.

At 6 o’clock,
life circles back
to feed us everything we dished—
sweet or sour.

So if someone’s good enough
to breathe the same air,
don’t hand them thorns
for picking flowers.

Cutesy isn’t weakness.
It’s grace.
And grace bites back
when least expected.