Prompted Poems
Poems born from a single line, a challenge, or a spark shared by the writing community. Every prompt becomes something entirely my own.
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She stopped mistaking chaos for love and learned to turn around when a road makes the body remember fear.
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She gave more than effort; she emptied whole rooms of herself into a dream that eventually became a place she had to leave.
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Regret may line the path behind her, but it does not get to choose the direction of the next step.
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Summer leaves the way some loves do: warm on the skin, already fading before you realize it was the last time.
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The ocean lives in her like inheritance—salt, tide, ache, and the pull toward places that feel older than memory.
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Joy can be ordinary enough to serve for breakfast: small, messy, sweet, and gone before you realize you needed it.
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The harm did not come from some abstract darkness; it had a familiar face, a familiar voice, and choices that belonged to you.
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Becoming means naming who she is now without softening it, and deciding which old versions no longer get to come along.
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Some feelings live between grief, longing, relief, and fear—too complicated for one word and too real to ignore.
Between Bruises & Blooms 