Caved In

I walked in

with grief still wet on my skin,

too raw to tell pain from comfort.

He didn’t love me,

not really.

He lingered long enough

to feel needed,

then disappeared

when I needed him most.

He stopped calling.

Stopped asking.

Stopped seeing me.

I told myself it was okay,

that maybe I was too much,

maybe not enough.

But the truth is

I have no answers.

No closure.

No peace.

Just silence

and the slow sinking

into a shell

that barely fits my name.

Hope?

I lost it in the waiting.

Faith?

I buried it beside my parents.

Desire?

It doesn’t visit me anymore.

I don’t know if I’m healing,

or just learning

how to live

quietly

while broken.

Behind the Curtain of Cool

Hiding your true self

Is quite a task, ain’t it?

A daily rehearsal

Of who they expect you to be.

Charming. Composed. Controlled.

You wear the mask like armor,

Smiling through storms,

Agreeing through grit teeth,

Nodding when your soul screams no.

Because fitting in feels safer

Than standing bare in your truth.

But masks are fragile things…

And pressure has a way

Of cracking even the best disguises.

When life corners you,

When the weight is too much,

When the lies stop fitting your skin,

That’s when it happens.

The real you slips out,

Not in grand explosions,

But in trembling moments.

A tear that escapes mid-sentence,

A truth blurted too fast to catch,

A refusal to shrink… just this once.

And maybe, just maybe,

That’s when living begins.

Not as the person you pretend to be,

But as the soul you buried to survive.

Island Girl

The ocean knows me…

It hushes my storms.

Salt in the breeze,

Peace in my bones.

Sunrises heal,

Sunsets teach,

That even the hardest days

Will drift away.

I am an island girl,

Born of tide and light,

Held steady

By the sea.

Easter, 2019

Time stood still,

A moment frozen in horror.

My home, engulfed in flames,

Shattered by the blast

On a day meant for peace.

Fear wrapped its arms around us

As one by one,

They went off,

Echoes of destruction

Tearing through sanctity.

What just happened?

Panic sets in.

Where next?

Are there more?

Is everyone… accounted for?

Who could unleash

Such darkness?

Death lingered in the air,

And amidst the grief,

Anger rose.

Unstoppable,

Breaking at the seams.

I’ve lost faith…

In people,

In God,

In everything I thought was sacred.

And all I can do

Is whisper

Through the silence:

Why?

In memory of a horrific day.

Vulnerability

On a Blackfoot,

Played bare,

No armour, no shield,

Just skin,

And what lies beneath it.

Open to everything,

The warmth,

The wreckage,

The way the wind kisses

And cuts,

All the same.

It invites truth

If you allow it,

But truth is a blade

In the wrong hands.

So it is twisted,

Bent,

Rewritten by others

Who never knew

How much it took

To stay soft.

It can be manipulated,

Abused,

Spat out

Like chewed beetle,

Discarded for daring

To feel

Out loud.

Still,

What power

To feel deeply,

To remain

Unhidden,

Even if the world

Only sees weakness,

While you carry

The quiet strength

Of staying open.

Have You Met Yourself?

Have you truly met yourself,

in the stillness,

when no one’s watching,

and there’s nothing left to prove?

Have you asked the hard questions,

sat with the messy answers,

and stayed

long enough

to understand?

Do you nourish your mind,

move your body with intention,

tend to the soul

you so often silence?

Meeting yourself

isn’t a single revelation.

It’s a practice,

of peeling back the noise,

layer by layer,

until you remember 

who you’ve always been. 

A Second Chance

I believe in people,

some, inherently good,

who stumble off course

momentarily,

needing a hand

to guide them back.

The world can be cruel,

quick to judge

and shatter a soul,

rarely pausing

to ask

that vital question:

Why?

When overwhelmed

or trapped

in situations beyond control,

we may sabotage ourselves,

take a wrong turn,

yearning

for light.

Not everyone sees

the vulnerability

behind the eyes

of one who’s hit rock bottom.

If only they’d

pause

for a moment,

extend a hand,

it could change

the world,

and perhaps,

offer a second chance.

Left on Read

We used to talk every day,

Now your name just fades away.

“Good morning,” “good night,” all gone.

I still check, but you’ve moved on.

I still send texts you hardly see,

Little pieces left of me.

Blue ticks blink but seldom speak,

I wait for words that rarely peek.

You weren’t just someone I knew,

You were my best friend too.

Now I scroll through what we were,

So much change, everything’s a blur.

No one asks about my day,

If I’m okay, or not okay.

Silence now is mostly what I get,

From someone I can’t forget. 

Unshaken

I was built

By the wreckage of what broke me.

In love,

In loss,

In the quiet undoing of life.

Grief carved wisdom into my bones.

Betrayal lit a fire I thought I’d lost.

Every slammed door

Became an opening,

Not outwards, but in.

I never wandered

From the road I walked,

A warrior,

Not for glory,

But for those I hold close.

Time tempered my core.

Every fall

A foundation.

Every scar

A story I carry,

Not with shame,

But with pride.

Now I stand,

Not untouched by pain,

But shaped by it.

Taller,

Bolder,

And finally,

Unapologetically,

Me.

 

In the Blink of an Eye

We laughed in languages only we knew,

Built castles from secrets,

Shared storms and sunrises

Like we were infinite.

You once said,

“Some bonds are unbreakable.”

And I believed you,

Until the silence crept in.

No warnings, no thunder.

Just distance

Woven into your voice,

Strangeness in your eyes.

I searched for the why…

But hearts don’t send memos

Before they change course.

Sometimes love

Doesn’t shatter,

It fades.

Quietly.

In the blink of an eye.