What was the last thing you searched for online? Why were you looking for it?


What was the last thing you searched for online? Why were you looking for it?


I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

No one is coming to rescue you, princess
no matter how much you wish to be saved or try your hardest to manifest
a prince to carry the heavy burden of responsibility
youβre constantly lifting
No one is coming to save you, princess
Itβs up to you to save yourself
Itβs up to you to continue to work hard
and be selective on what you expend
your energy on
No one is coming to help you, princess
Youβre no longer relying on others
for a sense of identity or security
and youβre now an independent Queen
whoβs learned only she herself
can save herself and is wise enough to block out
any negativity or toxicity
that threatens her autonomy
or wants to bring on another
Emotional relapse
Day 10 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. The prompt was “Leaves on the Road “.

I wrote this poem in August of 2022.

My bra is the milkshake that brings men to my playground
It gives me the cleavage that makes them feel like theyβre in love
Theyβll claim it’s my words or my eyes they’re in love with , but letβs not kid ourselves
Itβs really my majestic breasts that pop out with their own personalities
they fuel their many exotic and erotic fantasies
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.

My love data tells me I shouldnβt try again because every time
I crash and burn and cause trauma and drama
because every time it ends, I get hateful and want revenge
and While I do appreciate the poetry that comes
after every broken relationship
I donβt think I can withstand the heartbreak and hardship
the next time it ends
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

Am I doomed to men trying me on
just so they can change their minds-
days, weeks, months, years later
is it some kind of karmic energy in me
I still havenβt found the remedy for?
Perhaps I really need to stop trying
to find hope in love
and stick to whatβs working for me
and thatβs being alone
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

could we have done more?
could his story have had a different ending?
could we have all been more compassionate-
more open instead of entrenched and absorbed in our own worlds?
all of these questions are asked, days or week or even months
later, wondering-if we carry any blame or responsibility
when someone ends their life with their own two hands
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

all of us have been or will be dumpster fires
it doesnβt matter who you are
man, woman or non binary
white, black or brown
with or without a mental health diagnosis
working class or upper class
at one point or another weβll all be toxic to another person
or to ourselves
some of us admit it and cringe
some of us will ignore it or blame someone else
all of us have been or will be dumpster fires
itβs a rite of passage
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

the outline of her body in the middle of the road-
told the most tragic of stories
she wasnβt looking when she crossed the street
she was lost in her thoughts
and the driver speeding didnβt see her
and splat went her body
death came quickly to her
her last thought was mission accomplished
but the world thought
another victim of an unexpected and tragic circumstance
I wrote the poem in August of 2023.

I reach out to my unhealed parts when they show up
theyβre the messy and crazy parts I hide
the parts that still long to be codependent on others
and are terrified of my new autonomy
the parts that try to bleed into my present
and prevent me from reaching my fullest potential
I reach out, embrace them and whisper
βOur story will be better than okay,
we just need to trust the processβ
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.

Iβm comfortable in the land of i donβt know
and allow the universe and the source
tell me what I need
And i fall into faith and hope
that things will work out
no matter how many unexpected crooked left turns
I take
no matter how many times Iβm met
with obstacles and challenges
itβs all used to build my strength and resilience
Itβs all used to fill me up with wisdom
to take risks and live life fearlessly and unapologetically
to find my own happy ending
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.

I hold my head up high now
no matter what happens
I will never allow anyone
to ever again dim or extinguish my light
I now understand the magic I hold within
and how it can be intimidating
to some people who canβt understand it
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.

Trust in love is a concept lost to me
I canβt imagine giving my heart to anyone else
I canβt imagine being vulnerable with anyone else
and itβs insanity to keep allowing myself to trust and love
when all I do is lose, lose, lose
I donβt know how to cope when a love song stops
while Iβm still dancing
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.

When I fall in love, I lose control, and I lose my power
and itβs painful
because now I have someone to lose
and I donβt deal with loss very well ever
and suddenly Iβm all about them, them, them
be understanding, be sweet, be accepting
Be everything
Iβll go to the depths of hell and back for them
but most of the time, they wonβt even cross the street for me