creative-writing
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The Moth
She was drawn not to light, but to the memory of warmth, how dusk held its breath when his presence hovered like dusk’s first wind. The night was a velvet hush, stitched with stars like half told promises, and she, fragile winged and flame hearted, beat against the silence for a touch that was never Continue reading
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Mirror
I am the mirror The one you never quite expect, But when you meet my gaze, You see beyond the mask you wear. In my stillness, you confront The parts you hide even from yourself The choices made in shadow, The soft betrayals you dare not name. I hold your reflection steady, Not twisted by Continue reading
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No Vacations, No Retirement —Just Grit and Grace
I grew up in what my mother called “working poor.” It wasn’t a label we wore publicly. It was just… life. At first, I thought we were like everyone else. I thought soup kitchens were just another kind of restaurant. I thought thrift stores were where everyone got their clothes. I thought rich meant your Continue reading
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The Woman I Saw in Myself: Loving Katharine Hepburn
There are women I admire. And then there are women who remind me of myself before I had language for who I was. Katharine Hepburn is that woman. I can’t tell you the first time I saw her, I don’t mean watched her, I mean felt her. That sudden stillness in my chest, like someone Continue reading
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My First Week Back at Work After Surgery: A Humbling Reminder
Coming back to work after surgery felt like walking into a space I once knew but now had to relearn. I told myself I’d ease back in, be gentle with my body, honor the healing process. And I really thought I understood what that meant. But this first week? It reminded me how much I Continue reading
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The People and Forces I Look to for Guidance
List the people you admire and look to for advice… In life, we often find ourselves seeking wisdom, understanding, and direction from those who have shaped us, whether they are people, moments, or even invisible forces. For me, my guidance comes from a combination of both tangible and intangible sources that help me navigate the Continue reading
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The Weight of Healing: Reflections on Surgery and Pain
Day two, and the pain is relentless. It moves through me in waves: sharp, deep, and unforgiving. I’ve always been a side sleeper, but now my body resists every position, every shift, every attempt at comfort. My bed, once a place of rest, now feels foreign, incapable of holding me through this. So, I’ve surrendered Continue reading
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Between the Knife and the Unknown
I lie beneath the weight of waiting,the hush before the plunge,where time bends,where breath is borrowed,where the body is a question with no answer. The scalpel sings in silent promise,a whispered hymn of hope and risk.Will I wake to the sun’s golden mercy,or slip into the quiet where names are forgotten? I have traced the Continue reading
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The Inheritance of Ash and Earth
I was born from ruin, from hunger,a child of sorrow stitched from the remnants of history,woven together with the thread of survival.From the bones of a world broken and reformed,I rose, carrying the weight of two broken pastsand the hope of something that could heal the cracks between them.A body made from ghosts,an echo of Continue reading
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A Thirst for Something More
I have a thirst that runs deep within me. It’s not the thirst for anything material or shallow, but something more,something that feels as if it’s from another dimension. I long for a life that feels more true, more aligned with the core of who I am. The world around me tries to tell me Continue reading
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From Kicks to Chords: How Karate and Tumbling Gave Way to Music
Are there any activities or hobbies you’ve outgrown or lost interest in over time? Over time, I’ve found myself outgrowing certain activities, one of the most significant being karate and tumbling. These were my world for much of my childhood and early tween years. I trained in Isshin-ryu karate, a martial art that emphasizes both Continue reading
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Becoming Me: Embracing Adventure, Freedom, and the Vibrancy of Life
For as long as I can remember, I lived cautiously, almost mechanically. My decisions, my actions, my very way of being, everything was shaped by an invisible, yet very real, wall of fear and responsibility. A wall I didn’t know I had built, but one that was firmly in place, holding me back from the Continue reading
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Kate Bush: The Art of Feeling
Kate Bush’s Running Up That Hill is one of those rare songs that feels like it exists in its own world, timeless, haunting, and deeply emotional. From the first notes of that ethereal synth line to the pounding of the carnal drums, it carries an intensity that’s almost otherworldly. The song is about longing, understanding, Continue reading
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Winter Moonbeams
Winter moonbeams wander wide,across the fields where shadows hide,they spill like whispers, soft and cold,on branches bare and stories old. They weave through night’s crystalline breath,between the stars and earth’s quiet death,etching frost on windowpanes,where longing lingers and silence reigns. They lace the world in silver threads,crown the pines and rooftops’ heads,glow on paths that Continue reading
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Rediscovering Our Connection: The Beauty of Returning to Nature
It’s strange, isn’t it? That we, as humans, are woven into the fabric of the natural world, yet so often we distance ourselves from it. We come from the earth, we breathe its air, and we are sustained by the food it offers. Yet, in our modern existence, it seems we’ve drawn a line, perhaps Continue reading
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A Quiet Unfolding
In the stillness, something shifts,A quiet pull, a gentle rift.Not a break, but a soft release,A letting go, a finding peace. We don’t become someone new,We shed the old, and feel what’s true.Layers fall like autumn leaves,A whispered dance, a soul that breathes. It’s not loud, this quiet change,No grand reveal, no need to arrange.It’s Continue reading
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Woven in Black: The Threads of Trust
I stand in a small, dimly lit room, surrounded by mismatched chairs and the smell of coffee and incense.The gentle rhythm of a bongo drum hums in the background. I’m dressed in all black, the fabric heavy against my skin, but I feel light, as if the beat is carrying me forward. It’s my turn Continue reading
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Winter Touched My Skin and My Heart
Winter came to me slowly, like a lover who takes their time, savoring each moment before diving into the depths. His presence was a quiet promise, unspoken but felt, wrapping around me in a way that I couldn’t quite shake off. His touch was cool at first, like fingers lightly grazing the back of my Continue reading
The Dreamer's Pen 