You can hold me —
but only with open hands.

You can call me —
but only with a voice soft enough
to leave my name free in the wind.

Control once broke me.
Chains once fooled me.
But I’ve rebuilt my soul
with scorched truth
and stubborn fire.

So trap me again, if you must —
but only with love.
Only with warmth.
Only with the kind of touch
that frees
while holding tight.

Because I will never kneel
to anything less
than love.

I stood still,
not because I’m weak,
but because I thought
you needed somewhere safe
to swing your pain.

You said I was your punchingball —
and smiled,
as if the truth was something
I should be proud to carry.
As if bruises count as love
when they come from you.

But I bleed in silence,
and you don’t see the cuts
because they don’t show
on skin.

They show in
numb mornings,
tight throats,
quiet yeses.

You still think
I stay because I can’t leave.
But I stay
because I choose to.

Don’t make that choice
feel like a mistake.

My freedom came
when I stopped reflecting myself —
and started seeing the mirror.

Not to judge.
Not to fit in.
But to face the gaze
no one else dares to hold.

What you see
is what you want.
Not necessarily what’s true.

But look deep —
deep into the eyes of the mirror.
Inside… is truth.
Not the kind you polish.
Not the kind you sell.
Only the kind you carry —
or burn from denying.

Socrates whispered:

“Do you know who you are?”
Lucifer answered:
“Now he does.”

And I smiled.
Not because I liked what I saw,
but because I finally dared to see it.

Channel 2

Nightly News

Who even knows anymore?


The clink of dishes


Disarray


Discussions a-bout dynamite


Likely to tear my hair out


It's fair to say I'd scare


my younger self


Wouldn't recognize,


or even know how to reply


to the sight of things


Paranoia creepin' in


Might have to do with,


all that research I been readin'


Either tricks are being played


Or something is amiss
in the way you treat me...

I'm neither the mirror nor the reflection
I'm neither the presence nor the absence  
I'm neither the fool nor the sage
I'm neither the seeker nor the finder
and
I'm neither the sky nor the cage

I am someone I haven't been
since
I am somewhere in between and something unseen
But if I do know a thing
is that
I am sewing what I am with the not's that I keep clean

Tell me,
How do you walk
With all of that pain?

You move on this earth
Steady, going
For so long now
That you believe
This is
A part of you.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

It sits, quietly
Draining your will,
Your connection.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

It sits, numbing
Out feelings,
Causing friction.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

It sits, waiting
For your eviction.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

So locate it, banish it.
I promise you, I swear
Oh, precious one,

You'll find that 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚.

▪︎ mica light ▪︎

Hiding. She's
Trying. I keep her
Confined.

Sleeping. She's
Weeping. She screams out her
Cries.

Falling. She's
Calling. There's pain in her
Eyes.

Dormant. She's
Latent. She feels
Paralyzed.

Shifting. She's
Drifting. But I keep her
Inside.

Uneasy. She's
Queasy. Yet I
Minimize.

Refracted. She's
Lasted. She cant be
Denied.

Bleeding. She's
Seeking. To be
Recognized.

Unwitting. I'm
Splitting. I say my
Goodbyes.

Heating. It's
Fleeting. My old peace of
Mind.

Conquered. I'm
Anchored. I'm treading
Neck-high.

Drowning. Heart
Pounding. My sight going
Blind.

Vehement. Not
Present. I am losing my
Pride.

Engaging. I'm
Raging. She's loud from
Inside.

Neurotic. I'm
seasick. From pain left
Behind.

Messy. We're
Heavy. There's blood on our
Lies.

Damage. I
Manage. This fall from up
High.

Numbness. Crave
Oneness. This banal state,
Mine.

Transgressing. Keep
shedding. And I'll find her
Smile.

Uplifting. Deep
Thinking. I tame what is
Wild.

           Releasing and healing
                     My own inner-child.

      
☼ Mica Light

To the little girl who grew up too fast:
Who had her childhood taken away from her too young.
Who never knew what innocence was.
Who desperately searched for love in all the wrong places.
Who was afraid to show her heart, but desperately wanted it to be seen.
Who craved validation from men, most who didn’t care to know her name.
Who drank until the world went black.
Who hurt people, because she was hurting her self.
So full of angst.

I can still see her now- clearly.
She lives inside me.
I can find her standing at her favorite beach.
Listening to the angry waves crash.
It’s night and she’s always crying, but silently.
Salt water sprays her face as salty tears run down it.
Staring at the ocean, gazing at the moon.
Desperate for a glimpse of hope.
Here she’s able to feel all the things she has kept inside—
Safely.

To the little girl who grew up too fast:
Who knew pain so young.
Who only wanted the love of her mother,
But looked for it in all the wrong places.
Who made choices to hurt herself, because she saw no value in herself.
Just know, I love you.
Even when you’re difficult to love.
I wouldn’t be me without you.