I Lost Her in the Quiet

I had my own choices
once,
in a new and unfamiliar world.

I was allowed to speak —
to name my fears,
to listen to the quiet alarms inside me.

Then something larger moved in.

A force.
A season.
A life stage.
A voice that wasn’t mine.

Maybe a bully.
Maybe time.
Maybe I still don’t know
what the hell happened.

I only know
I lost her.

Buried under expectations,
under survival,
under a pile of things I never chose
but learned to carry.

Is this it?

Fighting every day
to keep the peace
with too many branches pulling at me —

while secretly
wanting to burn the whole damn tree
just to see what’s left standing.

St. Glam Forever

St Glam forever and always 

A place for lovers, tightly held within

A vow forever to travel in time

A Soul Token given and kept

A power of grace, wound between hearts

A kiss that started it all and pronounced eternity

A feeling that will not be defined by words

A definition of calm tornadoes

An island that surrounds two hearts

An excitement of new adventures

St Glam forever and always

Again!

I reached forward
to take the hand—
a saving hand of encouragement,
of strength.

Carrying doubt in every cell,
wrapped in pity I mistook for protection,
I pulled away.
I let go.

Again.

I reached once more,
searching for the offering—
the gift that promised self-confidence,
the place where I might finally arrive.

Fear whispered consequences.
Uncertainty rehearsed failure.
And again,
I stepped back.

Again.

Then I stood.

I stopped chasing the hand
and let it come to me.
I allowed myself to be lifted,
guided forward,
held steady.

I made it.

And now I am here—
again—
with a hand up,
not a hand out.

From the Pieces

The pieces lie scattered at my feet.

Please—
do not hand them to me.

Let me reach for them
when I am ready.

Do not give up on me yet.
I am still here.

I will learn the shape of what broke.
I will take my time
sorting what can be kept,
what must be reimagined.

Do not sweep them away.
Do not hide them.
Do not decide their fate for me.

The mess is mine.
I own every fragment before me.

There is strength in these hands—
enough to build
from what remains.

And if time runs thin,
if the clock dares to stop,
I will still do this—

making something truer,
something stronger,
from the pieces
on the ground.

Unspoken Return

The atmosphere vibrated
with silent welcomes—
a knowing without words.

Welcome back.
It has been a while.

Pieces were left here
by an unspoken agreement with the past,
waiting without judgment,
without demand.

There was a pull—
knowing without knowing why.

The present.
The here.
The now.

Colliding gently
with what was once set aside.

The atmosphere became visible,
thick with recognition,
soft with permission.

And the pieces—
no longer scattered—
found their way back together.

Be My Soul Token

 
Give me the strength
to understand,
and the grace
to rest in peace
with my own soul.

Bring me a power
that does not demand,
but allows me
to shine—
to sparkle
as I was always meant to.

Grant me faith
beyond acknowledgment,
beyond proof—
a place where my spirit
can lay down its weight
and breathe.

Be my Soul Token—
a quiet reminder
that I am held,
that I am light,
that I am already enough.

The Silence That Knows

I have carried questions for years and chased answers that never sounded like truth.

I heard what I didn’t want to hear, while ignoring what I already knew.

There has always been peace inside me— a pure nothing stronger than something.

Strip it all away. Everything you own. Every thought you cling to.

Stand there— with nothing— and listen.

No voices crowding the mind. No questions stacked on questions. No emotion. No ego.

Just silence.

Sit quietly and wait for the next thought to arrive. Really listen. Do not answer it. Do not push it away.

Anything?

Imagine the moment you simply get it. All of it. Without effort. Without explanation.

Your greatest wow is still waiting.

Beginning or End

On the hill above the town,

where every street still knows her name, she stands with a bottle of water twisting the cap as the past flickers below.

The town that raised her. The streets that shaped her. The life she once fit into.

She stills herself, as if motion alone might decide everything.

The sky deepens. Evening holds its breath.

For a moment, she lets go of every story she’s carried— every expectation, every weight mistaken for destiny.

Darkness comes, not as an ending, but as a pause.

A surrender to not knowing.

Is this the beginning, or the end— or the quiet space
where choosing finally becomes possible?

YOU HOLD YOUR DREAM

 

I had a dream that he came to me

He let me believe I was free

He made peace with it all.

I had a dream, and then he left again.

No one will know what you hold inside.

Allowed to shadow your former self

Dreams will come but will not hold you.

You are the dream in living color

EVEN THE MIGHTY FALL

On a cold autumn day, I walked alone along the country road. The air, the distance, and the peace I absorbed, allowing myself to take advantage of being me. I had nothing to do for moments but walk out in the country air. I came across a hawk; lying alongside the road with an apparently broken neck. I choked back my disbelief. I did not expect to react as I did. My simple life had come face to face with the mighty, and the mighty had fallen. In disbelief, I came face to face with the parallels in my life and all the space that surrounded me. This was reality, the hard stuff. Even the mighty fall, no power can take on fate and situation. It is what it is, and this is where it ends up. He lay there dead. He lay there weak He lay there alone The universe he came from and the universe he flew over did not matter anymore. It made no difference how he reigned or how he stood proud. In the end, he was like any other…dead and gone. A cold chill flowed like an ocean through my entire body. So this was it, the true essence of life. Nothing matters in the end; we meet at the crossroads on even ground with the same fate. We all meet up somewhere. It wasn’t just death that threw me into a spin; it was standing there realizing “the mighty fall” Once strong and happy, I can end up weak and scared. Once on top, it can end up on the bottom. It is not as if I did not know this of my surroundings and world situations. It is not as I was unaware of the homeless, poverty-stricken, the ill, and the disasters that come. Being faced with a small part of the fallen mighty takes you to bounds and flowing feelings of natural process, we call life, like the hawk, whether it be death, poverty, addiction, sorrow, and pain, the mighty fall, some slowly and some quickly. We all fall. Gathering my thoughts, I continued to walk. Finally, I looked up, and there was a hawk in all its glory, beautiful and powerful. I wished him well.

I OFFER MYSELF

I offer myself to you, pieces of me that can be shared
Never to be a whole, I cherish the love as if it were.
Take me, love me, and care for me in ways that only we receive
Offer me yourself in pieces that can be shared

I dare to be with you in stolen moments
Never a minute wasted on frivolous feelings.
Take the time to enter my world and enjoy
Dare to love me the only way you are able.

I gather memories of the passion and hold them tight.
Never lay my dreams out for the world to see.
Take the power within me to grow inside the days.
Gather my senses and feel my soul within your body.

I take my chances on the stormy waters of this heaven
Never to lose the unstable foundation we balance on
Take the presence of my heart and hold it dear
Take me when I offer you myself in pieces.

NOT CRAZY

I have walked in the darkness
I am not crazy, just lost

I know myself to know I can find light
I have followed the tunnel to hell
I have ran the other way
I am not crazy, just sad

I have asked for help
I have bent on knee to beg
I have whispered my pain
I am not crazy, just hurt

I have answered to evil
I have backed up from it
I know I will heal
I am not crazy, just hidden

I will pray for the day
I will hold on tight
I am well enough to know
I am not crazy