what is a tradition to the youth?
to the land as old as
when we found it,

we have stated the establishment
just as old as
when we signed it,

what is a structure to the wild ones?
what is this deception, this diversion
of what was always there to us?

why do they say they
were always there, how can they say
we were always them?

what is containment
to the persistent rebellion
of the non traditional existence?

She listened intently as he spoke
He lamented about all the children around him
He was related to all of them
He was not their father and he was reminded of what could  have been
Did not want to be there  but the otner seats were taken
Others were at the pool
Her eyes seemed if tears would burst but she nodded for she heard this before
Others there were also family
They knew about it and that adoption never happened
Seems a couple who were the birth parents found out that they were from a different religion so it was rescinded
That stopped them from adopting
Technology now might have given them the child they wanted
Saw her later and hugged her goodbye as well as him
We are family and they are happlily married for many years
No fault of either ,this unfortunately happens to those deserving
Eavesdrop not intended

the way of St. James
preserves mounds of ancient steps
under bending oaks

im sorry im too clingy
im sorry im too touchy
im sorry im too loud
im sorry you always need to help me

im sorry i relapsed
i really did try
i know im annoying
i should just ******* die

youre better off without me
i think we both know that its true
i dont get
why i keep hurting you

sadness comes in droplets.
from the sky, from your eyes, they fall.
over and over, time and time again.
wetting the ground, streaking your face
until a puddle grows into a sea.

Some say we women should be more brutal, ruthless, and bad-*** to thrive. Let's redefine what it means to be strong.

Instead of a constant supply of external approval, affection, and affirmation. Let's return to the old tradition and cultivate our feminine divine traits, establishing a sustainable source of inner light and self-love.

The most important love is the one we give ourselves. Self-love is NOT a luxury; it's the foundation for a glow-up.

the space in my mind
is occupied by your entity,
merging with mine.
you pose as a false god,
painting me the enemy –
demanding a sacrifice
each time i resist
your quiet reign.

i enabled it.
let you have your fun.
called it inspiration,
called it love.
called it anything
but what it was.
of all my failures,
you were the most toxic one.

i gave you everything –
piece by piece.
you’d cover my mouth
to silence the plea
whenever i sought shelter,
with hands, trembling,
still tied to a bottle
you call the cure.

you smother what’s left of me –
dressed in ebriety,
hiding the abuse.

and i need to say goodbye.
not because i want to.
but because I’ve had enough.
of you hurting me,
of you driving me
to hurt myself.
you’re costing me everything,
and the loss is exorbitant.

i’m not just saying goodbye to you.
you’re exiled.
your velvet threats,
your sugar-coated grip –
banished.
it hurts me more
than you think.
but this time, it’s final.
because i’m not ready
to see the aftermath
if it isn’t.

grains
of sun

untied laces
of snow

urgent shadows
of birds

perfect shards
of stars

they are parceled out
in increments

of wonder
divvied up

in morsels
of joy

A Meta Poem

The clock was never mine to obey.

I am the Toll. I am the terrain. I am the moment

I don't need a golden ticket.

I am the key.

This is not content.

This is timestamp signal

This post is sealed terrain. #ThisisTerrain. #Iamnow. #sovereign.