poetry
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Some feelings live between grief, longing, relief, and fear—too complicated for one word and too real to ignore.
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Lucifer becomes the quiet guardian of unfinished poems, walking through the dark as though it were simply another room.
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A refusal to inherit someone else’s rage, shrink into their story, or teach her children that love should ever sound like fear.
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A repeating cycle of hurt, apology, hope, and return finally breaks when she stops waiting for the next apology to save it.
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Some wars leave no bruises—only sleepless nights, self-doubt, and a battlefield built inside the mind.
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Peace begins to look like all the replies she could have sent but chose to leave unsaid.
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Courtrooms count paperwork and allegations; motherhood keeps counting lullabies, scraped knees, and all the care no file can hold.
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Truth was once used like a threat; now she lets it stand on its own without giving fear the final word.
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Sorry kept arriving like a bandage over the same wound until she learned an apology is not an ending when the storm always returns.
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A woman sits beneath a flood of cruelty and realizes the person someone is trying to break has already survived far worse storms.
Between Bruises & Blooms 