Maybe my lack of satisfaction has nothing to do with a diagnosis
Because maybe, possibly, it could be true
That there’s just something greater that I’m meant to do.
Twirling and attempting to manipulate mood rings as a child,
Never backing down from a fight,
Learning that women can have autonomy even if the head of their household doesn’t belief in such things –
That a woman can be her own head of household instead of clipping her wings –
Some limitations we place on ourselves,
Dust collecting on passions
That will only become trophies if we make it so
Some things we must do ourselves.
I want to share some pictures and videos that speak louder than the lines shared above do. Thank you for viewing.
I attended this college in undergrad before choosing to go off into the military. My days as a student here were so meaningful that I returned as an adult before I began giving in to my nomad tendencies (again). I visited the University of North Carolina School of the Arts many times to accompany my late paternal grandfather to complete tasks at his job on this campus. I entitled this spoken word video “Freedom”
Easter inspired piece with a heavy emphasis on gratitude and healing.
This morning I woke up a bit out of sorts and a little trapped in my head, which is a frequent occurrence for me. A combination of sunlight, coping skills, a church sermon, nature, and of course my purpose as a mother and my gratitude for life inspired this piece.
Here I have some pieces that I created to kick off National Poetry month. Some of these poems were inspired by prompts created by well known poets and poetry organizations from Instagram in which I will ensure to give credit to and mention upon their permission and discretion. I will also return to this blog post to update any information as needed.
This post serves not only to keep poetry inspiration thriving but as a reminder to myself of why I am still on my current path.
“All my life I had to write…”✨
Quite a few of these I have yet to title. Enjoy, and as always, thank you for viewing.
If you stare in the mirror too long, does your reflection seem to change?
Your mirror, my mirror No filter. The imperfections are pretty clear.
Tell me, what reflections do you pick up and carry home with you?
Reflecting fragments of self, Glimmers of others, Carrying their shit, your shit, The world’s shit on your face.
If you stay too entranced in the reflection of someone else, Yours may not look too good to you.
Sometimes we wanna Switch mirrors Even if only for a second.
We try to transfer this and transfer that, Deflect Neglect Reject.
Imperfect. I’m perfect. Shatter.
Shape shifting to meet The demands of others, You sit home alone long enough You’ll see a blemish form. Maybe a spot here, A pimple there, A very shiny gray hair. Mirror mirror on the wall, Who the fuck is this Staring back at me?
She’s – Actually Very pretty.
Clean the glass, Wipe that mirror,
Shower runs, Don’t worry the condensation will evaporate.
Put on that face. Which face? The one that they like? Nah – just take a second, Breathe, And look up.
