Blood and Bone

I will be safe, I will be free.

I will not grow old in captivity.

I rise and fall as the tides of yore

I sit and ache like distant shore..

I am not your cage, your leash, your guilt,

Not made to shrink where shame is built.

I am the howl that split the night,

The ember born of stolen light.

A silver bullet through the gloom,

A poisoned arrow sealing doom.

My breath is even, my heart beats true

The storm may come—I'll see it through.

I will not beg, I will not bend.

I am my own beginning, end.

I forged my path with blood and bone

And now I stand, entirely my own.

But silence casts no cunning spell—

It simply stays. It guards me well.

No hot sauce, please.

 The world is made of old beige bandaids, reeking of HOA doldrums and missed PTA brunches. Beige begets grey along the spectrum of those who willingly—willfully, thoughtfully, soulfully—order their own flavor of flat-earth existence. Custom. No hot sauce, please. It's bad for their weak constitution.

My bones are filled with glitter and fury, my veins run hot with righteous indignation. My flesh screams in rainbow, and my blood runs salty with the envy of my nemesis. I stand apart, eyes wide, a howl of primal rage erupting from the depths of me—in the place they stood me, in the place I refuse to stay.

I am dandelions grown in broken concrete. I am the breath-halting scent of petrichor drifting through your open window just before the first drop falls. I am the shadow of who you used to be. The ghost of who you wanted to be. The shroud you've become, dreaming now in monochrome and low-fat snack choices.

Running with Scissors

Not a single whisper in the dark nor even the softest sound from the flip of my hair as I forge ahead, no regrets, only clean momentum taking me the fuck away from whatever mire I leave in my wake.

The world behind me simply fades, those echoes of yesterday dissolving like mist in the dawn. I begin to taste the freedom hanging in the air, a sharp, electrifying pulse urging me onward. Each step is a defiance of the past, a rebellion against the weight of what once was. With every stride, shadows stretch and snap, releasing their grip on my soul—unshackled and absolutely alive.

I am a force of nature, a whirlwind of determination. No more dancing to the tune of doubt or the pitter-patter of fears that once clawed at my heels. Instead, I carve my path with the fire in my veins, igniting the very ground beneath me. My heartbeat syncs with the rhythm of a fierce resolve—love me or leave me, but my journey does not hinge on your desperate apologies.

The horizon calls, painted in hues of possibility, beckoning with arms wide open. I chase the sunlight, knowing that behind every fading star lies the promise of a new dawn. I refuse to be caught in the web of nostalgia, nor will I linger in the shadows of hesitation. I am the architect of my own fate, and the blueprint of my life is inked in bold strokes straight from the heart.

I let the wind carry my spirit, unyielding and wild—watch me vanish into the dawn with a fierce grin, a tapestry of dreams woven into the very fabric of my existence. As I sprint toward the unknown, I am nothing but raw momentum, a comet blazing through the void, unraveling the tapestry of tomorrows yet to come.

Let them wonder where I went. Let them replay the final moment in their mind, looking for a crack, a sign, a reason. But the truth is, they don’t get the ending — I do. This story wasn’t about them. It never was.

Once and again

You said it was forever. You left me standing on the road. A man called with burgers, and you left me standing on the road.

Once, twice, three times again, and a dozen times more, you left me standing on the road.

You said you would be there - one core moment after another, after another, after another...

Dollar signs dressed like apologies.

Who cares? Me? You?

No less, no more.

Again and again, in my darkest hours - reaching out to nothing, but you wished me well and promptly forgot - past your ears, over your head, and out the door. You'd later ask what happened as though it was never said. Disinterested, you'd tell me about your day.

Once, twice, three times again, and a dozen times more, you left me standing on the road.

You'd fall in love and fall away from everything else in the world, dropping soggy promises from your lips to dissolve like raindrops in the sand.

Dollar signs dressed like apologies.

Who cares? Me? You?

No less, no more.

We'll connect, do coffee, and meet for lunch. A month, six months, a year flies by - no effort, no concern. A text tossed into the void to keep me hanging on.

Once, twice, three times again, and a dozen times more, you left me standing on the road.

I'm waiting for this bus alone to nowhere and I have no more time to waste.