Poetry
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Tremor of Stars
Two rivers run, unseen, beneath The skin of stars, where silence keeps. One hums in shadow, one in flame, Yet neither knows the other’s name. A mirror breaks in a language lost, Reflections drift, count no cost. Bones of wind, whispers of rain, Folded inside a secret chain. Time blinks sideways, refusing doors, We are Continue reading
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My Ideal Home: A Lush, Whimsical Sanctuary
What does your ideal home look like? If I could design my dream home, it wouldn’t be about trends, minimalism, or perfection. It would be warm, eclectic, whimsical, and alive. A sanctuary that breathes and grows with every moment. Traditional at its core, with hints of preppy charm, a little boho, academic sophistication, and playful Continue reading
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Little Jeweled Angel
You came in like a giggle draped in gemstone light, emerald, turquoise, purple flame, all stitched into your wings like some sky-born crown designed by mischief and moonlight. You weren’t flying, you were flirting, circling me like a secret, like you knew I needed to be reminded that joy still has wings. A little jeweled Continue reading
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She Walks in Light Unnamed: Becoming Something Wild and Beautiful
I didn’t know exactly what I was making when I started filming this. I just knew I wanted it to feel like something whispered, like a dream or a spell or a memory I hadn’t lived yet but missed anyway. I went out into the grass in the late afternoon, barefoot, wearing a green dress Continue reading
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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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Limbo
Edges blur and fade A soul drifts in hollow space Yearning without home. 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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The Body Remembers
My body is not betraying me.It is speaking.Soft, persistent, unyielding in its truth. I have lost, yet I have gained, not in numbers, but in weight that is unseen, in the burden of something growing, pressing against the fabric of who I was. A mass settles beneath my ribs,rooted like a secret,stretching the limits of Continue reading
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Silent Wars
Why must I fight these battles alone, carrying shadows no one has known?A whispering ache, a hollowed plea, drowned in silence, swallowed by me. The moonlight flickers on my skin,Tracing the wars that rage within.Armor cracked, yet none can see, the weight, the fear consuming me. Echoes dance in empty halls,Mocking ghosts that hear my Continue reading
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Song of the Varied Thrush
In the mist of morning’s light,Where cedar trees meet ocean’s might,A song drifts softly through the pines,From the varied thrush, where silence twines. It calls across the dampened moss,Through tangled woods and mountain’s gloss,A melody so clear, so deep,A secret that the shadows keep. Beneath the sky, a gray-blue hue,Where coastal winds and rain are Continue reading
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Fever of You
The space between us trembles, it burns with fire.Your touch is a promise, your breath fans desire. I taste your name in the hush of the night,my skin still smolders where your hands conspire. Your lips—hot embers—trace over my skin,a whispered command, a wordless choir. The hunger between us, untamed and wild,pulls us deeper, our 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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The Man in the Moon
Beneath the veil of midnight’s quiet grace,The man in the moon drifts, soft as snow,His light a whisper, a gentle, glowing trace,A secret that the stars alone could know. He weaves through constellations, slow and free,A dreamer kissed by winter’s frosty breath,His eyes, like silver lakes, hold mystery,While whispers from the stars defeat the death. 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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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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In Between
This poem, In Between, is meant to be spoken over Pat Metheny’s Phase Dance. The rhythm of the words aligns with the fluid, improvisational energy of the music. Begin reciting at the opening of the track, letting the tempo and mood guide your delivery. Adjust your pacing to match the ebb and flow of the Continue reading
The Dreamer's Pen 