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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The last time she saw them becomes a scene memory keeps replaying, searching ordinary details for the goodbye it did not recognize yet.
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Nightly joy arrives in the small things that survive the dark—quiet rooms, warm bodies, and moments no one else sees.
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Even the wind can carry back what memory tried to bury, touching old names, old places, and the ache of what once mattered.
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Love did not end in one dramatic moment; it wore down slowly until the sentence finally learned where to stop.
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An unfinished sentence becomes a declaration of everything survival, grief, motherhood, and becoming have made her.
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Home stops being a place when one person becomes the quiet safety every road had been trying to lead toward.
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Every love story ends somehow, but endings do not erase the tenderness, damage, or meaning of what lived before them.
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The hardest part of loving someone is sometimes realizing the love was real even when staying became impossible.
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A love accepted in a smaller shape just to keep one particular person close leaves worth and regret deliberately unresolved.
Between Bruises & Blooms 