Late Night Note

Us writers, we pick and choose what we want to put out there. Our works mirror our life, our struggles, our pain, our joy, our love. With every page written there is an exposed truth, a vulnerability. It is terrifying, as an artist, really as anyone, to put yourself out there. So many times I think, “Is this too raw? What will people think? If I let people in, they might see me differently, am I ready for that?”. So, I draw back and coward down a little, only exposing what I think to be acceptable without being “emotionally slutty”. My goal for my blog in 2020 is to let go of that. To learn to be okay with being an expressionist, a bold one. I commend those who have surpassed the point of feeling embarrassed or too open, I know it isn’t easy but I also know it comes with time. Those of you who do so, the brave ones, you inspire the rest of us to be brave as well. So, this is just a note to acknowledge you and your open hearts and to tell you to continue. You shake up the world when it’s too still; too stuck in its ways. The world tells us to be cold, closed off, and un-trusting. But your warmth and openness brings something so groundbreaking to the world, truth. Thank you.


My eyes shut and don’t feel any heaviness, not for a second. Instead they feel as light as can be, reaching a heaven with clouds and everything soft, knowing that you soon will appear. You are heaven, in my eyes, undoubtedly my haven. I am ecstatic. Within milliseconds, there you are, and I see everything that I’ve been missing. Your eyes are in mine, as passionate as the ocean slamming against the shore, they scream of a blue so beautiful that I get lost. In your eyes I see longing, both of ours, as mine reflects in yours. And I can’t help but to imagine your arms locked around my waist as you pull me closer to the heart that is mine. Your hands travel down through skin smooth as silk and you find the ocean that we both love to bask in. We stay for what seems like hours, involved in a love as similar as the sea, endless. Here we are one, moving through a single body and mind. Then, a moment later, my eyes betray me. Everything goes black. They slowly open and I realize the harsh reality. There is no you. There is no us. Just a reality that awaits and awaits for the next chance to get to you, the only way that I can. A reality that misses your warmth and our fire. A fire so strong that I understand eventually it needed to be put out. But one that I know to spark again. So whenever I feel my eyes begin to shut and feel relieved, I am always ready, willing, and waiting for us and our chance to finally be together.

A Fork in the Road

There was a fork in the road, and I had no insight on which way to go. I needed to explore my options to make sure that I would make the right choice. I could keep going straight, and continue to live in a lie. Or I could pick a new direction and go either left or right. Going left could mean possible destruction, an opening for yet another disaster. But going right, that could mean having to face everything that I wasn’t strong enough to face yet, the fact that I would be alone. The path that I was currently on was eating away at me, it killed my spirit. I had woken up one day so unhappy with how I was living that I felt sick to my stomach. I would look in the mirror and not be able to recognize the girl in the reflection. Suddenly my hair seemed dull, and my eyes too small for my face, and you could forget about my complexion, had I ever seen the light? I had lost myself, unrecognizable even to me. So, no. Going straight was not an option for me. Well, what about left? I could find a new spark to fill me, hopefully revive myself that way. But would it really help? Or is it just another opportunity, another heartbreak waiting to happen. It’s so scary, to love. You put yourself out there and just hope that the other person knows what they’re doing. But what if they don’t, where does that lead you? It leaves you on the floor, at 3 in the morning, crying your eyes out. Or wondering why they don’t love you back. Or feeling like you’re not enough. I couldn’t go through that again, I couldn’t open myself for that possibility. So I chose to go right. I chose to get to know myself. I knew it would be scary ,and trying, but the other options were impossible. I couldn’t do that to myself, I owed it to me. I said, if I could get inlined with own body and spirit, I will never allow myself to stay in a position where I’m treated less than I deserve. It won’t take me six years to wake up from a fantasy of how he could’ve been instead of what he actually was. I would know what to do, I would know when and how to listen to myself and put myself first. The right path is what I chose. I chose myself. This road was the hardest one, also the longest. But someone wise once told me the path that seemed the shortest would be a wider one, with more room for people to walk alongside you to help. But the path that would be longer, was more narrow, with only room for yourself. It is lonely, only having space for one foot at a time, but the most worth it, because if you could get through it alone, you would find your power, knowing that you were capable of traveling that distance on your own. That is so important, you know? Knowing that you can take other people’s lemons and make them into your own lemonade. Knowing that you can pick yourself up and take your own self on a journey to self-love. Securing a good head on your shoulders, so good that people will know exactly how to treat you because you would set such a high standard for even yourself. My fork in the road led me right, towards a path that finally enabled me to choose myself. It was the best direction I’ve ever went and distance worth traveling.


As you’ll lie on my chest, I’ll pray that you do not hear my cries. And as you’ll feel my heartbeat I’ll hope that you do not feel my pain. I’ll hope that my past remains an unfamiliar face, a person you would never had to have known. I will not wish for you, my very own blood, the same hand that I was dealt. I can not and will not will you the same fortune as I.

Though our roots run deep, I am happy to say that they will be torched. They will be cut and broken, and destroyed. I cannot allow you, my dear, to be apart of these roots. For you, I will plant a new tree. With beautiful, healthy, everlasting roots. After me, you will water this tree. And ensure that these roots remain healthy, a thing the ones before me never did.

But me, I will never forget the roots I will destroy. They serve a purpose way too meaningful. Clarity. Though they were detrimental, they had a beautiful quality in them, a particularly sinister beauty. Because the things that are ugly to the eye still hold a type of beauty in them, that is the way of nature. The beauty is the knowing, the newfound understanding. The beauty is the calm after the storm. I am the calm after the storm. The many storms that corrupted my tree. But what is meant to happen after a storm? Rebuilding.

So, for you and yours, I will rebuild. For the beautiful sake of you, I will ensure that your new tree will be better. Your tree will have a strong foundation so that it can withstand the storms, never compromising its roots. Never a need to rebuild. And you, and your line, will be nothing of mine. You will be rebuilt, anew, and so strong. The ones strong enough to break the chain.

Call me by your name

Call me by the name of your own,

Only then will I be officially yours.

No other way will make me sure, 

That I will be the queen of your throne.

Lay on my heart and call it your home.

I will promise not to make love a chore.

Our lows may hit as low as the floor

But still the sweetest you’ve ever known


Your name on your lips, sounds divine.

One plus one still equaling only one 

Because we are synched indefinitely.

What is mine is yours, and yours is mine.

I know this love will never be undone.

Just promise to love me exceptionally.

Poor Pink matter

My poor pink matter has officially dulled out 

It only hears a dramatic nothing but the same 

Thoughts as others carelessly speak about


As I walk home unattended in the rain 

The drops seem to surpass right by me

No umbrella doesn’t even cause me to strain


I look far and blankly into space defined free

I don’t know where I have recklessly gone

To or what has seemed to come over me 


Before I know it a whole fifty-seven long

Minutes have passed me effortlessly by 

And I didn’t know my direction was wrong 


My life has become this, and I can’t even cry

Because my brain won’t remember to remind me

It is dulled out I said, It can’t even try to try


Grey and Black

There has always been a grey in me,

an indecisiveness as big as the sea.

There are always decisions I cannot reach.

But this one, this one needed to be.

 Our ending, well, that is my black

My soul will never be restored

Look into my eyes, you will see that

I am someone who can’t be cured.

Your death, left a marker in my mind

It is the very same day that I too, died

So tell me my love, is there any room inside,

That box of yours, where I can just say goodbye.













Our loves

We are always told to find a nice partner who’ll become our soulmate and settle down. Meet a nice man, get married, and have babies is the expectation, right? I’ve even read an article that stated we may encounter three different kind of loves in our lifetime. The first is our baby love. It’s the first love we encounter and everything seems like perfection because we’re naive. Our second is our toxic love. Our toxic love is the recognition to the bad side of love, a little too bad. We are involved with someone or become someone who is possessive and jealous, maybe even abusive. The third and final is our logical love, it’s effortless, mature, and just works the way it should. But what about our other loves, our other kind of soulmate?… What about our best friends?


This made me think of my best friend. I found my soulmate when I was 12 years old. She was the funniest person I had ever met, the one who would pay for my pizza when I didn’t have money, and the one who would cover for me whenever I needed to sneak out. We rode our bikes together, lied to our parents together, and stayed out until midnight exploring the town. I remember those long late nights as kids, we thought we were on top of the world. We’d cry about life while laying on our backs, watching the stars. We experienced every heart break together and told each other everything. We shared our first hangover and stories of losing our virginity. She’s seen me neurotic, happy, and in times of desperation. Most importantly, she’s seen my growth. Is it safe to say that our best friends can become one of our loves as well?


I believe, yes. But it’s a different kind of love because it’s a different type of bond. A bond between women is like no other, it’s science. We are sisters, we are biologically compatible, we feel each other’s pain. So there’s always a part of us that we will never share with a man the way we share with our best friends. A very very special part of us. That’s why most of the time you’ll hear us say, losing a friendship is a greater loss than losing a man. Now, i’m not saying that a man is not important. He may play a significant role in your growth. You may find great love in a man, you may bare your body and soul to him. He may see things in you and evoke things in you that you never knew existed. But there are things you will go through that he will simply not be able to understand or relate to, (especially if he’s the one causing the trouble). I know for me, when I am going through something so intense, I crave the arms of my partner. But it is my best friend’s voice,  my soulmate who I met when I was 12 years old, that I need to comfort me.


Article :

The Waves

We go to the beach and stare into the ocean. We notice the waves and think of such tranquility . Why is it that we see such violence and think of it’s beauty? That’s the way I used to think of you..


Every time the waves would hit I’d close my eyes and think of you.

I’d think of your rough tide and the roar of your waters

and how still, I wanted to sit somewhere close and look into you.

I’d think of how I had jumped into you without knowing how deep and dark your ocean was

yet still, I trusted you.

How even when your biggest wave hit and you knocked me across the ocean floor,

I still stood up and went in again and again for more.

But within the strength of your high tide I found mine

and before I knew it I was able to find my own waters

and drift away from yours.