I played God, and I flopped
Being a giver, a fixer I struggled when they hurt, craved their okayness, And went out of my way to make them okay Tried
Tested by the hands of time
Before my whole being gives up the fight Before my arms grow weary of holding you Before my ears find your voice unknown to me
Longer than we should have
Hopeful that tomorrow would be better Holding on to the belief That broken can be mended Confident that we would mature We held on longer
Burdens of an overthinker
I love you, but your response to my confession is scary. I love you, but what happens if it’s just a feeling, An infatuation
Imprisoned
I want to be free again, From all the guilt that he died that day, Free from the cold handcuffs, Free from the turmoil of
Quiet Screams
I am the portrait of strength. They say Rooted deep, a symbol of courage Bound to flourish, as I shield and provide As I guide
The Young Widow
She stood by his grave, Words could not depict the pain she bore, He left her to face this cruel world, Alone. The choir melodiously
A DM To Depression
You know, I’m fine. In the eye of your storm, I breathe… I watch the walls closing in, Threatening, relentless, testing my skin. But for
The Faithful Wife
She left her job, She left her Mum and Dad, She left her comfort, Her friends, Her fancy clothes,her education, Alone, she ran to him,
I Knew It Wasn’t Just “Teenage Blues”
A presence I now see, stretching through the years past. But it took time—time to see, time to process, time to accept, To name the
