All posts by HarmonixChiq

Mentors Throughout Life

Every single one of us has come across people who’ve changed the course of your life, people who have inspired you and left a bigger impact on your life than you yourself could’ve ever anticipated. For me personally, high school would’ve been substantially more difficult without the unwavering support and understanding I felt from my teachers and my guidance counselor. While they’re the typical mentors kids look up to in school, for me they were so much more. As a lonely kid living in a strange new home with literal strangers, it was comforting to know that my time spent in school would allow me to depend on those people, and I leaned on them incredibly hard. I’ve tried in the years since graduating to reach out, to let them know how much they meant, to really tell them the permanent impact they had on me as a person, so much so that I still strive to make them proud to this day, despite the fact that we don’t speak.

If you or someone you know is struggling, is alone or depressed, do them and yourselves the biggest favor you could possibly offer, be supportive and seek out the support that you need. Never be ashamed of feeling the way you do, don’t let that stop you from expressing yourself, for you never know whose guidance could lead you down the path you’re meant to follow for the rest of your life. I can honestly say that I have no regrets about opening up to them, and they truly helped change the course of my life. Any little piece of wisdom or advice could be enough to pull yourself back off the ledge. Allow yourself to be helped, and allow yourself to help others when possible.


Watch Where You Go

I’ve recently decided, as a writer, that I needed to try and branch out. Here is my first attempt at an educational song for children. Feedback is very much appreciated and welcome!

With a good sense of direction,
You are always in control.
With a good sense of direction,
You are always in the know.
With a good sense of direction,
You’ll get where you’re meant to go.
And all you’ve gotta do is simply
Watch where you go.

When you’re up on your feet,
When you’re feeling the beat,
Be aware of what’s happening.
Don’t forget to stop and see.
When you’re walking the streets,
When you skip merrily,
It’s your responsibility to
Stay aware of your surroundings.

It’s not only the right thing to do
When you are on your own,
It’s also something you should
Always do when you’re at home.
But you should keep an eye out
For the people that you love,
‘Cause it’s nice and you know
They’ll do the same for you.

Brave Enough

You don’t need to be strong enough to change the whole wide world, you just need be brave enough to change your own small world. The bigger picture can’t be changed unless you start out small, the little pictures all add up to something much more meaningful. You can’t address the world’s issues unless you fix your own, so take the wheel, don’t back down, and do what needs to be done.


No Risk, No Reward

There’s always gonna be those days where nothing seems to go your way. You push and pull with all your might, but despite your attempts, nothing turns out right. You find yourself deep in the night, the silence takes away all fright and finally you can hear yourself, the words you’ve desperately tried to make out. There’s no shame in the loneliness, it isn’t all your fault, give yourself a break, sweetheart, for the best is yet to come. No one else can second guess the thoughts inside your head, try not to let them get to you, you’ll be better off in the end. Only you can express yourself best, just focus on that voice, don’t fight your thoughts, embrace the chaos, and accept yourself for who you are.


Explaining My Absence

Sometimes life can be so incredibly overwhelming that even venting and writing about our problems can be difficult. Lately, life has been kicking me while I’m down, seemingly one terrible thing after another continues to happen, and I met my breaking point. As someone without many friends, venting isn’t really something I do with anyone other than my husband and with you, my readers. I know there aren’t many of you who follow me, but those of you whom have regularly read my posts have given me a boost of confidence when I’ve needed it, and I hope you’ll be there for me once again. I’m going to attempt to force myself to get back on here, to find some new prompts and topics to discuss that I’ve maybe haven’t touched base on before. With the holidays and end of the year quickly approaching, it’s time I start trying to figure out exactly who I wanna be next year and for the rest of my life. So welcome back, those of you reading, and thank you for following.


You never asked, I didn’t offer, you left me feeling beaten, battered. The words replay inside my head, won’t let me sleep when I lay in bed. The sheets still stink of pure resentment, I’d toss them out but won’t give you the satisfaction. Scattered all across my home are little reminders of what I survived; the hole in the wall, the broken front door, the crack in the tile floor where it all went haywire. I’ve become jaded, I’m not unscathed, still carrying around all the awful things you’ve said. You’re the voice in the back of my mind that can’t be ignored, no matter how hard I’ve implored. You took from me my innocence, you robbed from me my youth, you stripped me down to just bare bones and left me on the ground. Yet after everything that you have done, I’ve still failed to get you out of my life. Is it fate or coincidence, is it a curse or meant to be, will you always be the downfall of me?


When love and fear collide for the first time, it makes us feel more alive, forces us to question everything we ever thought we knew. Even though the first glimmer from the rising sun may seem dim, it will fill the skies with light just as you fill my life with love. I’ve been many people, seen many things, but nothing I’ve ever felt has been more real than this. The moment you came into my life, the first time I held you, the first time you hugged me, those were the moments that my heart was first alive, that I felt true and lasting love. Those are moments I’ll never forget, my only regret is not snapping more pics.

Being your mother may not have been my choice, but I’m honored that it’s me because you’re my everything. There’s a never ending worry, fear, that creeps up on me late at night – worries that I’ll never be enough. But when those moments come, I try my best to remind myself that you are a little piece of me, and that you’ll always love me unconditionally. Things get hard, I won’t deny, sometimes I fail before I try, but I’ll always have you by my side, at least I hope, until the end of my time. Thank you for teaching my heart to let love in, for now it inhabits me. For my beautiful Coraline Jayde.

Fostering Life

The following is something I’ve written for a non-profit organization I hope to start one day to help support foster kids.

Mission Statement:

Advocacy, Resources, Support, & Understanding for all foster children.

Vision Statement:

In order to properly address the needs of the foster children in our communities, we must first be willing to accept the fact that most of their struggles are caused by the overwhelming flaws in every aspect of every system. These issues that they face are because they are in dire need of more advocates, more allies, more assistance, and of the utmost importance, these children need to feel understood. We’ve reached a point of crisis, we currently have more children in need of homes than there are families currently willing or able to help. We are facing the worst addiction rates, the highest overdose rates, and these play an imminent part in the number of foster children. There is substantial evidence of correlation between addiction and people being unable or unwilling to care for their children. The sooner we acknowledge the truth, that so many things can be changed, fixed, and improved upon, only then can we attempt to find a better solution.

The Real Life Island of Misfit Toys

Here’s an intro to yet another book that I’ve been working on. Thanks for reading, enjoy!

Once upon a time, in a land far away, lived a cursed group of people, whom not even fate could save. They try and try with all their might, still struggling through the cold, long nights. No one to put their mind at ease, the voice inside their head, diseased. Never confiding in anyone, for trusting someone is far too tough, so instead they bury their thoughts so deep, the lies they tell themselves to sleep are merely a means to cope and breathe. Their confidence does not exist, forced out of them through all exits, yet they still try to coexist in a world where they’re constantly dismissed.

No Justice, No Peace

There’s no justice in this world, no country cares to feed its poor. She said “no child left behind”, as she crossed her fingers out of sight. The lies we’re told and tell ourselves are detrimental to everyone else. Everyone thinks they’ve had to suffer, and if you’re wealthy, its most unlikely. There are children predisposed to stress, born to parents who couldn’t care less, doomed to roam the streets in loneliness. Yet no one thinks of them in the ways I do, I know how they feel, been in their shoes. I feel such grief for every single child who grows up without a mother & father. One’s better than nothing, I would agree, but love from both parents helps, I’ve seen. Now worry not, there’s still a chance to do the right thing, to lend a hand. Let’s show these kids that we do care, help me help them feel like people again.

The Art of Illusion

I know what it’s like for no one to ask how have you been, for them to pretend they’re really your friend. And I know how it feels to be kicked when you’re down, no one around to help you get back on your feet. I know how to pretend that this ain’t the end, that we’ll make it through ’cause we always do. And I know this time around, you won’t be dragging me down, I’m standing tall and I’ll risk it all. You’ve ignored my cries for far too long, so I’m moving on now, I’m finally done.

Creative Writing Prompt #3

They sat shoulder to shoulder on the beach, willing the sunset to last just one second longer, knowing that it has already come to an end. This great adventure they embarked on so long ago has finally reached the point of resolution, and they must now decide their own fate from here on out. No more blind dependence on one another, no more partner in crime, no one else to assign blame for their actions other than themselves.

While the love they share is true and deep, their priorities haven’t been aligned in ages, and they both felt the time had arrived for them to finally put themselves first, rather than each other. Neither of them ever thought this day would come, and while a certain sadness circled them in the cool breeze above, there was also a silent moment of relief they both felt. It wasn’t verbally acknoeledged, but the look they exchanged said enough.

It wasn’t that they fell out of love, but they realized that love isn’t what had been keeping them together, but more it was the fear of what comes next. Not altogether abnormal, but for these two it was unknown territory, unchartered waters. Some things in life forever remain a mystery, sometimes it haunts you. Yet here they were, together, and yet they had already fallen apart.

The Kids You Don’t Know

Please enjoy this excerpt from the novel I’ve recently begun working on.

Story Description

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.”
Most of us have heard some variation of the phrase, but most won’t admit even if they know firsthand that there are things people can say that hurt an infinite amount more than any beating ever could. That’s certainly not a phrase I’ll be teaching to my daughter, she needs to know not only that her words affect others, but that it’s perfectly acceptable to feel hurt by something someone says to or about you. We’ve become so accustomed to speaking in such a manner of selfishness, taking little or no responsibility for the outcome of verbal insults, assault, or abuse. If you’ve ever been victim to hurtful or abusive words, you’ll know how detrimental they can truly be.

My goal in life as a parent and a human being in general, is to be the exact opposite of what everyone thought or said I could be, to be so much more than just an addition to the unnerving statistics about kids in foster care or that come from abusive homes. So as I write this, it’s nearly impossible for me to express how many times I’ve thought about all the different ways this could go, writing about my story but in a way that isn’t really just about me. There’s an uncomfortable feeling in sharing your experiences with others and especially when written versus having a conversation with someone whom you trust.

Since this is the beginning after all, we’re gonna start as far back as I remember, my longest standing memories. One paragraph at a time I’ll unravel the strings that helped shape me into what and whom I am today, and each day as I grow and continue to write this. Bare with me, it may get a little ugly from here on out. Thank you for reading, even if just this, because I’ve said enough for you to now have things planted in your mind that may not have been there before, and my biggest goal in all of this is for it to grow and blossom into your mind, to manifest itself enough for you to spark a conversation or offer help to someone suffering.


Not all children have families, you know. I’m here to tell the tale of the kids you don’t know. The ones who spend their time alone, locked inside their rooms; completely on their own, and you haven’t got a clue. There’s children going hungry, crying themselves to sleep. There’s kids forced to do awful things most adults would never speak. They’re forced to do these things but they just don’t yet understand the full repercussions of these actions in the end. I’m not just speculating, I’m telling you because I know; for I was one of those kids, and you’d never even know.

I go about my business just like everybody else, and take care of my daughter as if I were someone else. I try my best to just forget the things that I’ve been through, pleading silently with myself to just let it all go. I’ve cried myself to sleep so many times I couldn’t count, but you can surely count on me to not count on anyone else. I’ve come to accept the loneliness, as if it were a choice; pretending I’d rather be alone, trapped with my own voice. But the truth is very simple, yet it’s hard to comprehend; I long to feel lasting peace, stability in my head.

The chaos never quiets, it smothers me through the nights. I’ve begged for attention, cried out for help so many times, that in fact I think I’m all cried out, for my tears are running dry. The anger is consuming after time has failed to heal the wounds of a neglected child with a voice as piercing as nails. I’m no longer aware of the person that I am, not even sure who I’ll be in the end, but there’s one thing that I’m sure of, something I’ve always known; I’ll give the love to my daughter that I have never known.

People can be inherently cruel, especially when asked to understand things they’ve never been through.
Empathy and sympathy are more so perceived by each of our urges to connect with other beings. Not everyone you encounter will be willing to attempt to see things through your eyes. There’s always gonna be another reason to look back, so don’t allow one lousy day make you question how far you’ve come. This is a life that only you have lived, the battles through the war that left you broken within; the sweat and tears that only you have shed. So here’s my advice, don’t let their opinions win.

They say that misery loves company, well I can tell you that they’re right. But misery also loves to be taken by surprise. Sometimes the smallest things can bring you joy, if you allow; but once you’ve become closed minded it’s incredibly hard to dig yourself out. Positivity eludes me, I’m sure some of you can relate, but we cannot let negativity sabotage our current state. Sometimes I look around and I feel torn, I feel conflicted. This may not be the life I want, not the one that I envisioned, but I know I’ve gotta make the most of what I’ve got while I’m still living. I’ve gotta learn to move on while my daughter is still young, before she’s old enough to follow my image.

This journey includes details about me, about my life, but it’s about way more than just that; it’s about shining some light. So many kids and young adults are living in the dark, ashamed to reach out and share what’s going on in their lives with someone else. There’s gotta be a way, I’m convinced, to help us all come clean about how we really feel at night when we’re alone. There’s certain things in life that never leave you, they stay with you, and most of us, I’d like to say, are having trouble coping with them. Let’s tackle this together, for it’s the only way, and paint a new picture where the sky’s not always gray.

Please join me in an attempt to share my story and to help teach you how to spark a conversation with someone you know who’s in the dark, or to help you reach out and enlighten someone else about what it truly means to be depressed, contrary to what you read about it in the press. Mental illness can be more devastating than any cancer, more dangerous than any gun. Destruction and disaster strike our hearts and minds, much like a flash of lightning you catch a glimpse of late at night; the exponential growth, the climb to the climax and the decline, and we find it hard to describe most times. It’s cliché to end this way, but as they say, and I must implore, you don’t have to be alone anymore.

The Beginning

We all have blurred memories from our childhoods, some of which you’re not even sure actually happened but you go along anyways because a family member insists they witnessed it. For me, the blurry moments involve life changing events, things of an awful nature that leave lasting imprints on you, whether you’re certain of it happening or not. Let’s just say therapists have told me that if these events didn’t actually happen and therefore didn’t cause my PTSD, what did cause it was the constant reminder from my mother; the only family I’ve ever known. Some of the things she said to me are forever engraved in my brain, permanently burned into my skull.

More permanent than any tattoo or scar is a memory of one of your parents telling you how much they regret your existence. How does one find the will to keep going if the people who created you aren’t even truly invested in you? I remember thinking that I wish I could express to my mother how much I also wished I didn’t exist; how I wish I was as invisible in her eyes as I am in my own so that she would just let me be. I wished she’d just let me leave so I could disappear, never to be seen again. I was flooded with near constant urges of escaping or dying; I longed to feel absolutely nothing at all.

For as long as I can remember, my mom has been instilling upon me details of an alleged sexual assault, molestation as she preferred to call it, committed against me by my father, at 3 years old. While I’ll never know for certain that it legitimately took place, I will say, that if it did, I feel extremely lucky to have been too young to remember. Girls and women alike deal with these issues before we even know what sex is, spending too much time being sexualized by family, friends, and even strangers as well.

Even if you’ve never been molested or raped or assaulted, chances are you’ve at least been a victim to some form of gender related verbal attack or abuse. I find myself struggling quite often with this, not knowing whether or not it happened, wishing I could just know for sure so I can quit this “what if” mentality caused by the constant question of how different my life could and would have been with my father in the picture.

I’ll always remember being convinced that I was one of those missing kids on the side of milk cartons, that my mother stole me from somewhere or I was sent home from the hospital with the wrong people, that somewhere out there was a kid living a great and happy life that should’ve been mine. While those thoughts were with me for an unhealthy amount of time throughout my life, sometimes it’s all I had to keep me going, to keep holding onto.

My mom is full blooded Puerto Rican, both her parents and most of their families were from or still love there. If we’ve met, or if you look for my picture, you’ll know that we look nothing alike, which is initially why I wondered if I wasn’t actually her kid. But as time went on, as I continued to grow and learn, I have now let go of those childhood fantasies and have accepted that she’s really the only family I’ve ever known.

There were long periods throughout my life when my mom was incredibly ill, and she still is today. One of the first times she was having surgery, she sent me to live with a woman named Stacy and her husband, she was one of my babysitters when I was younger. She was great, I loved her, and I was so happy to get away. I stayed for an entire summer, even met a girl who was staying nearby with her grandma for the summer, we met at the neighborhood park and pretty much instantly became friends.

There were two other occasions where she was having surgery and I flew by myself to Puerto Rico to live with my grandparents, both stays were around a year each, with the second time being much worse than the first. Let’s just say that my mother is definitely my grandmother’s daughter, they’re so much alike that it’s scary, so I’m glad one of them lives on an island so I don’t have to deal with them both at the same time. Like mother, like daughter, as the old addage states, but that’s a cycle I fully intend to break, as I won’t be anything like them, I’ll be a loving mother instead. Hopefully that’s all it takes, then like mother, like daughter won’t leave loved ones in their wake.

For as long as I can remember, I’d have an army of friends built around me, people who loved me, people I could confide in, people’s whose parents could sense there were issues at home and always tried to comfort me and make me feel comfortable and welcome in their homes. School was always a safe haven for me, a schedule I could count on to keep me from being alone too much or with my mom too much. No matter where I was, I walked around on my own from a very young age, I always wanted to get away, to go on adventures, to see the world and feel true independence without limits.

More than anything, I just wanted to feel loved, accepted, wanted, needed, as any human does, but especially young girls without fathers and whose mothers are no role models. Friendship definitely isn’t an aspect of life where I ever took advice from my mom, I’ve always trusted my instincts without a fight, mainly now because the few times I haven’t have ended disastrously. But from a very young age, I felt older than I was, that I could relate to things I should’ve never understood, from music taste to entertainment to books, life issues, and more.

Despite all of this though, I’ve been known to be naive, to fall for people’s lies, to give people too many chances to hurt me again and again, most of whom never deserved a second chance, let alone a fifth or more. AOL, AIM, MySpace, VampireFreaks, and other iconic platforms were in their prime in the late 90’s & early 2000’s, my generation was the first to grow up seeking out strangers’ approval, friendship, or guidance on the internet. We’ll come back to this topic again, so I’ll leave it there, but the current purpose of this part is just to paint the picture you’ll need to better understand my frame of mind then.

I’ve never truly witnessed my mom having any healthy relationships, neither friendship or romance. She’s been married and divorced 3 times, but I’ve only met one of them, and two boyfriends afterwards. Her husband Andy was probably the closest I ever felt to having a real father, but she of course ruined it. He was a high functioning alcoholic, he struggled with demons just like the rest of us, but he was a great man.

Her boyfriend after that was at least 10 years her junior, he was in his mid twenties, was half covered in tattoos, and him and I had more in common than they did, he heavily contributed to some of the music I now attribute to being why I pursued music so intently. He would end up trying to rob us blind and pushing me down a flight of stairs to get away with it. After he got out of jail she would call him crying, begging him to return, despite my begging her to stop calling him.

The only thing I’ve always known about myself is that I love to sing. For as long as I can remember, it was my identifier, what made me memorable to others, the one thing that I was good at, and that made me feel special or unique. So as soon as choir was an option in school, I opted in every single year, and continued to all the way through to my high school graduation and even years beyong that.

Most everyone enjoys music, but there’s something to be said about the connection between raw, real music and someone who has greatly suffered. Music gives us life, it gives us hope, helps us cope, makes us feel understood if even for a brief moment in time. From a very young age I took interest in all types of music; no matter what it was, I just couldn’t get enough of it. I learned every song on every movie, cartoon, commercial, radio station, etc., and sang loud and proud just about everywhere I went.

“I judge books by their covers, and people by their faces.” With how bad things were at home, wherever that may be this time, I began looking for every potential distraction; boyfriends, girlfriends, friends in general, reading, writing, doing what I love most by joining choir and a local band. Reading, writing, and music were and still are the most enjoyable things in life for me; they help compose me when I can’t quite manage it myself. As for the people aspect of the phrase, well let’s just say that if you’ve ever seen the show “Lie To Me”, I’m a self proclaimed natural at recognizing the true emotions and feelings behind others’ facial expressions and body language.

I’m still not sure how far into the spiritual aspect of things like that I’ll associate it with, I’m not one of those people who believes in auras and energy that people give off (although I’m not condemning or judging that in any way). I’m just a very firm believer in following your gut instinct, listening twice and speaking only once until you’re certain of the authenticity of an unknown person’s demeanor.

There’s not a time I remember ever being wrong about someone, either, whether it be a friend’s boyfriend, a friend of my mom’s or husband’s, etc., and yet I’m still guilty of trusting way more than I should. No matter how many people betray, use, abuse, or accuse me of despicable things, I’m constantly heavy hearted over wishing I could help those whom I care about. Most of them don’t even speak to me on a regular basis, and yet it keeps me up at night knowing I’ll never truly be able to impact or reach them in the ways I want or need to in order to feel satisfied.

I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t times that I isolated myself from the world entirely, some would actually say that I’ve mastered and perfected the art. I won’t even argue with that, and am proud to say it now actually, because there was a time when I allowed toxic people to rule my life, meanwhile my current life is completely centered around my daughter and husband, whom both love me very much. Sometimes you’re left with no choice though, sometimes no one’s around when you need someone most, so I figure at least this way I know who I’ll always have instead of depending on those who can’t seem to ever make themselves dependable for me.

Let’s go back to reading for a moment though, because I hope more people see it as an option. While I was in high school, I can honestly say that I read more books (non school assigned) than up until now in my life. At 26, just getting back into reading on a regular basis in my free time, and as the mother of a 2 year old, I’m remembering books as I see them that take me back to time periods I had forgotten.

For that reason, I’m currently rereading some of those books as I begin this journey, with some new ones sprinkled in there as well, if for no other reason than looking for inspiration or maybe some kind of insight into some of the feelings that I may have pushed out of my mind. Sometimes I question just how truly different I am, I don’t really remember a time when I didn’t feel exactly as I do right now, but I also know that I’m not still that sane scared girl I was, I’m a woman now.

If you enjoyed this, please follow me on Wattpad at HarmonixChiq for updates coming soon! Thanks to everyone who read, please feel free to leave comments!

My Own Best Friend

I wish, I wish I had a friend to be with me until the end, but since there’s no one else around, the only thing left to be found, the confidence to stand my ground. Convinced I needed someone’s help to help me become someone else, but instead after enough time passed, I discovered my life’s one true path. To be the mom I wanna be, I’ve gotta be enough for me. So now I’m fine with being alone, it’s more of what I’ve always known, but now I’ll take my chance instead, I’ve got my back, my own best friend.


There’s nothing I’d rather do than creating something new, the patience and determination make me a better person. Learning to do many different things is my greatest joy in life, it brings me lasting pleasure to see my creations come to life before my very eyes. The latest thing I’ve learned do is crochet blankets, and now rugs too. The rug I’m currently working on is made with t-shirt yarn from old shirts that were shrunken, stained, or tattered, so I’m not just making something new, I’m recycling without making waste, too!


This has been the first word from Daily Post that I’ve had trouble coming up with something for, so I decided to take it upon myself to familiarize myself with the word better & fold it into my vocabulary.

Paragon: a model or pattern of excellence or of a particular excellence or someone of exceptional merit.

I wonder why it is that this isn’t a more prominent word amongst the English language, for I feel now that I know it better, it would’ve been a useful term to know prior to this. Paragon, a word I’ll now use as a goal for my child, I’ll teach her its importance, the value of the word. If I had known it sooner, I’d have done the same for myself, learned to live my life by it.

Karma Chameleon

Reincarnation. Do you believe? This is something that’s always peaked my interests, and for as long as I can remember, I’ve felt connected to the term “old soul”. For most of my life, it’s what I’ve attributed as the biggest cause of my struggles with friendships and relationships, the subtle yet substantial differentiations between myself and most others my age. Some religions revolve heavily around the idea, to most it’s referred as to coming back for unfinished business, kismet, or karmic retribution. I choose to believe that I keep returning because I’ve worked hard to be a good person and have yet to ever reap the benefits of those actions. I understood neglect and misery at a far younger age than most, and as far back as I can remember, I’ve been the same person, mentally speaking, despite obvious educational deficits back then. There’s two things I’ve always known, that I was meant for so much more than what I am, and that I’m destined to help people in some way. Here’s to hoping this lifetime turns around soon, or that the next is when it’s finally my time to shine, to hone in on all my various skills, and to reach my full potential.


As the thorn tears through my skin, I feel a tingling sensation within. It caused me pain, and yet it helped me feel alive, the last time that I felt this way was when I got tattoos. Your words are made of bullets, they pierce and sting my soul, I can’t conceive that I believed the hatred you inspired. The way it all sounds in my head, those awful words you used, like “I wish you would die”, “Go find a new life”, or determining my worth. I’m haunted and I’m wounded, punctured through the heart, a new hole every single time you toy with my emotions. So I’ll never forget the things you said, I take them to my grave, and I’ll hope that in another life, I don’t see you again.


Trying to share a piece of myself with anyone else is where I struggle most, I push and pull, I’m needy and chill, and some days I just can’t help but cry until my eyes are running dry. So I taper off the parts of me that I don’t want the world to see, and hide behind what I perceive to be the idea of normalcy. I hope my act is convincing enough to keep the people out who have hurt me too much, to keep them from interfering with me and whatever it is my future may bring. So I tapered off the friends I had, until all that was left was my husband and then I even pulled away from him, realizing I needed to rely within. I’ve never been good at being alone, but I’ve learned to taper time by trying to do something good.


It isn’t just having luscious hair, or blaring your music everywhere, but volume can stand for so much more; the volume at which you hold your moral code. I find it harder to relate to people my age, they don’t seem to comprehend basic manners and humanity. If I had money I would be the biggest philanthropist, teaching kids to read and helping keep the water clean. The wealthiest Americans are crippled by their greed, never fully knowing the change sharing it can bring. All I know is if I could, I’d help the world any way I could, and show my daughter that morality and humanity never grow old.


I’m tough on the outside, my walls are kept high, I’m unable to identify with everyone around me. I’m pathetic and weak and feel sorry for myself, but I only let it show every once in a great while. I’m bad at reaching out, bad at asking for help, but mainly it’s because no one ever seems to care. Why would I continue to put myself out there, when all I’m ever met with is disappointment and discouragement? When someone asks me who I am, I ponder on whether to be honest or not, for it feels as though every single time I am, my calls for help still remain ignored. No one seems to understand and I wonder if they ever will, or if I’m just truly doomed to spend the rest of my days being totally and royally misunderstood. I’m delicate and tender, my feelings insecure, but people suck so I give up at making any new friends.


There’s people like me, unlucky and unloved, we find ourselves in harm’s way too often of the time. We’re valued as less because we’re poor, because of our color, our gender, or more, but mostly it’s the things in our lives we have no control over that contributes to the way society sees us. Tell me how that logic is fair, to judge other people for what they are, where they’re born, or what social class they fall into? Nothing about that is moral, yet it’s become the standard, a way of life for the middle class and higher to stick up their noses, to put down their foot and be selfish and greedy. We need more young people with fresh hearts and fresh minds to help spread positivity and solutions instead of passing judgment. The youth is our future, our present needs a revelation, some people to shake things up and show the world the devastation that’s caused by how we treat the poor, those who need help, and convince us to make those most vulnerable our number one priority.

Creative Writing Prompt #2

A knock on the door in the middle of the night never means good news, and as far as I was concerned, I wasn’t interested. Since I live alone, I had no intention of going anywhere near that door, but it definitely left me feeling uneasy. I tried my best to creep quietly from window to window, in a paranoid yet justified attempt to catch a glimpse of the mysterious knocker, but no such luck. A few moments passed between the knocks, and a few minutes later they ceased entirely. My skepticism and cynicity have me utterly convinced that something was seriously wrong, and my suspicions were made worse by the lack of foot steps. The absence of any sounds at all between when the knocking stopped and when I finally checked the peep hole on my front door not too long afterwards, to find absolutely nothing, no sign of anyone at all.


Love and life, lust and loss, so many four letter words can define our lives. Hate and hell, risk and will, four letter words define our world. Winning and losing, losing and winning, everything depends upon your perception. Here’s what I think, this is what I say, as long as you learned something, you can win at anything. The biggest difference between triumph and tragedy is how you allow your life to impact you. There are heroes who’ve won and lost, but the greatest ones of all were not always winners. We’re human, we struggle, we fall off the path, we get too distracted and lose sight of ourselves. It’s those who’ve overcome misery whom are the wisest of all, and wisdom is only gained through perseverance. So fear not, even if you’re lost, for triumph is possible as long as you believe it.


The smell of fresh fall air after a light rainfall, the way the wind feels blowing on your face, the way you feel after a much needed embrace. We always hear that the best things in life are free, and for these reasons I’d agree, and maybe you can help me spread a greater appreciation for these things in the end. For too many people long for things, possessions, materialism, instead of what’s most imperative, to teach our children that money isn’t everything, that no one else can decide their worth, and if they believe in themselves then there’s nothing they can’t do. Give me the crisp, cool air, a crisp breeze through my hair, and my loved ones surrounding me everywhere I go. For these are the things that make life worthwhile, not the crisp dollar bills fresh from your bank account.

Comedy in Marriage

This isn’t like anything I’ve done before, and I’ve never really expressed my interest in this particular art to anyone before. I’ve always fancied myself a remotely, if not relatively funny person, being modest, I believe. So recently I decided to try writing out some jokes for the first time in seemingly forever, and I thought, what better place to test the water than here? Here goes, I hope you all enjoy!


My husband, like most of the man children we all married, still at the age of 30 gets incredibly violent and feral when it comes to losing or fucking up while he’s playing video games, or any type of game really. This time he just so happened to be playing F1, which I’m sure only the men in the house tonight will know of, because it’s a completely sexist sport with virtually zero women in the field, visible or behind the scenes. Dammit, my feminism’s showing, oops. So anyways, he’s playing this car simulation game & basically keeps running straight into the wall at the same turn. Here’s how the conversation played out.

Josh: Why am I so stupid, baby?

Me: *Shrugs*

Josh: You don’t have to answer, you can plead the 5th. *Laughing*

Me: I didn’t really know what to say anyways ’cause I can’t relate…

See, now while we both had a good ole laugh, we were most definitely not laughing at the same thing. You gotta pick your battles in marriage, and since I was feeling generous, I let him have that one. All bullshit aside, my husband is the best I could’ve ever asked or hoped for, but he is certainly far from the sharpest tool in the shed, speaking of which, he can’t even use tools for shit. Should’ve stuck with the brightest crayon in the box metaphor. Sorry baby, but I still love ya.

Without a Voice

I thought I’d spam you with a bunch of lyrics, poems, & miscellaneous writings since I’ve been MIA the last few months.

(Verse 1)

How could I ever understand?

Such an adolescent mind,

I couldn’t comprehend.

Left in the dark without a voice,

Not that I even had a choice,

Now I’m covered in remorse.


You disregard the best of me,

Destroyed the image that I see.

But now I grieve for who I was,

Someone I could depend on.

My pain is not your platform,

And I won’t be your next disaster.

I’m afraid that you’re to blame

For making me turn out this way.

(Verse 2)

‘Cause it’s all your fault

And I’m done trying

To convince myself

That it was all really worth it.

I’ve been striving too hard

To be something I’m not

For someone who never

Even cared enough.


How was I supposed to know?

And how was I supposed to know?


You disregard the best of me,

Destroyed the image that I see.

But now I grieve for who I was,

Someone I could depend on.

My pain is not your platform,

And I won’t be your next disaster.

I’m afraid that you’re to blame

For making me turn out this way.

Polished, Yet Still Broken

My brain is bursting with ideas no one will ever hear, for I’m ashamed for them to know the way that I’ve been thinking. My goals, achieved, or given up, for I can’t seem to catch a break. I tried and tried, and worked and worked, all to be treated like an outdated book. I’m polished, you see, my mind in tact, but that’s not what others see when they see me out & about. People are mean and cruel and fail to understand the concept of empathy, try living in my head. It’s loud and dark and overcrowded, occasionally I’ll find a moment of silence, but it is always too short lived, my inner self screams to be more than just within.

Dismay is Okay

I’ve been perfecting this song for quite some time now, hoping to record it soon.

(Verse 1)

Tell me where to go from here,

I’ve been trapped behind these walls

For all these years.

It’s getting harder now to figure out

Just where it all went wrong,

And I can’t help but think

That I was meant for something more.


I don’t wanna be afraid

To take a chance, to make a change.

I don’t wanna go out this way,

I’m not the same with all this pain.

I don’t wanna live in dismay;

Don’t need more pain,

I’ve felt the flames.

I’ll survive again today,

Because despite my mistakes,

I have hope that

I’ll make it through the day.

(Verse 2)

Now what am I supposed to do,

Knowing everything I know,

Yet never what to feel?

It’s impossible for me to be

The best that I can be,

With all these dark clouds

Looming above, never leaving me.


I don’t wanna be afraid

To take a chance, to make a change.

I don’t wanna go out this way,

I’m not the same with all this pain.

I don’t wanna live in dismay;

Don’t need more pain,

I’ve felt the flames.

I’ll survive again today,

Because despite my mistakes,

I have hope that

I’ll make it through the day.


[There are thoughts inside my head

That I wish would disappear.

And there are things that I have seen

They’d make you glad that you’re not me.

So I appear as though I’m tough,

But love, I’ll never have enough.

But I’ll decide to think instead,

That I’ll be stronger in the end.]


I don’t wanna be afraid

To take a chance, to make a change.

I don’t wanna go out this way,

I’m not the same with all this pain.

I don’t wanna live in dismay;

Don’t need more pain,

I’ve felt the flames.

I’ll survive again today,

Because despite my mistakes,

I have hope that

I’ll make it through the day.

I swear I’ll be okay.

Jaded & Tattered

How can I be a brand new me

When I’m still living the same life?

Ruled by reason, ruled by pain,

The torment never leaves me.

All I can do is try to sleep

Until I find eternal peace.

Yet I am guilty of so much more,

You’ve no idea the life I’ve endured.

I spent all my time searching for it,

Something that can fill the gap.

Whenever I think that I’ve found it,

I realize how far I’m off track.

But I can’t seem to find my place,

My reason for existing,

The thing that makes you think I’m worthy.

I’m always searching for my purpose,

Despite the ways the world has worked

To kick me while I’m down,

I must admit even though I’m weak,

There’s more in store and I shall endure.


Tick tock goes the clock, my mind’s awake but my body won’t follow. I’m sick and depressed, it’s weighing me down, my shoulders drag heavy across the ground. I’m trying my best to just forget so that I can move on, but it seems I’ll never reach that point no matter how much time has passed so I’m forever lost and some suggest that it’s better this way, it’s for the best. My heart it plays a rhythmic beat, the sound I can’t remember, for its been so long since I’ve felt true love that every part of me is breaking. My bones they ache, through night and day, as I wallow in my lonely woes and yet I just can’t get a grip, I can’t forget what happened. The only rhythm left I’ve got is when I sing, but I don’t do it enough, for I torture myself, don’t do what I love, so I can forget what I’m good at and hit rock bottom.


Alone and abandoned, and barely hanging on; surviving instead of living, no matter how hard I try to leave the past behind me, forget it happened at all, so that I can finally be free, so I can finally move on. My life has just begun yet it seems that I’ve lived many, I can’t believe how long it’s been since the events that truly shaped me. There’s things I’ve seen you won’t believe, and so I’ll never tell you, but hear me now, I beg of you, that doesn’t mean they never happened. I’m jaded and I’m terrified, my life in flames before my eyes, and now I’m just convinced that I’m unable to exist inside this works, inside this cage, I’m tired of feeling rage. So if you think that you know me then you’re a fool for assuming that you know anything about me, let alone who I’ve become because you haven’t been around, I’ve been alone for quite some while but I’m accustomed to it now. I’m certain, yes I’m sure, that I’ll forever be alone because I’m through with being used and I will not just be abused so I won’t let anyone in, inside my walls is where I’ll live until my days come to an end, so farewell, so long, my friends.


Glitter, glitter, shiny and rare, reminding me to always be aware of all the beauty in the world, despite the fact that there is so much scorn. There’s wonder and glory all around, if you look hard enough it’ll surely be found. But times arise when you will find it’s harder for you to see the light, the tunnel appears dark, feels cold, but that’s the time for you to be bold. Don’t give away your sense of self, and don’t be changed by anyone else, for you are bright and shiny too, shimmering and good, and full of virtue. So don’t give up, please don’t give in, the world needs to know that there’s still truth in it, so be yourself above all else, and do what you can for everyone else.


Language is a barrier for those whom aren’t the same, from different places comes another dialect, another obstacle in the way. We must admit that we’ve been tricked for words are faulty and come out wrong, the one thing that’s international is our body language when something’s wrong. It’s obvious to anyone the pain in someone’s eyes when they’ve lost someone they love, or lost something they pride. The looks on the faces of homeless children conveys the anguish they exist with every day and the loneliness they feel is obvious for anyone to see. So now instead of allowing words to hold such power, let’s return to a time when we did more than just glance at one another, let’s study each other, faces and all so that we can empathize better than we would on our own. Notice someone’s pain, take someone’s away, but there’s no good reason to cause anyone any pain.

Without a Sound


Without a sound, I see my breath, I see my heart beating through my chest. Without a reason, without recourse, I fall to my knees, filled with remorse. I’d beg for my life if it’d make a difference, but I’ve come to learn that there’s no surviving. I’ve tried and tried, and tried again, without a hand, without a friend. I’ve wasted all my time instead of making the most of it that I can. My life has crumbled all around, my wisdom tumbled to the ground, as though it never meant a thing, but to me it still meant everything. The pain I’ve endured has taught me so much, I never learned to cope but I learned that I must keep pushing forward until I’m dead, that way I’ll know I tried until the end.


I am aware of your abuse, and what it’s done to me, I’m aware that your rage and disappointments gets blamed on me. I’m aware that I’m the child you wanted, but you chose to keep me despite not wanting me, and I’ve suffered forever more. My brother whom I’ll never meet, cast aside as a baby, I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering if I can find him. I’m aware that I’ve become a shell of who I’ve been, and that I’m no longer even sure that I know who I wanna be. Now I blame you for who I am, for clouding up my judgment, I don’t think I can fight anymore so please let me surrender.


Today I turn 26, practically on the cusp of 30 (kidding, but that’s how it feels), and I can hardly believe the time that’s passed, everything that’s gone on, where I am. Some things seem to feel vague now, almost as though they happened in another life. There are also things that will always seem recent, wounds that just won’t heal despite the time, things that seem like they just happened yesterday. I’ll say this though, I’m beyond thankful for my beautiful daughter and my hard working husband. They’re my entire world, and there are definitely worse things. Here’s to being another year older and hopefully I’ll be a little bit wiser. Cheers.


I make my way down to the bay, beside the river is where I’ll lay, alone for it’s the only way for me to make sense of this pain. I’m a glutton for punishment, a masochist as well, I crave attention for every aspect of myself. I’m sensitive, naive, and a little bit scared, but I refuse to hide the parts of me you can’t bare. I’m a lush for you, my darling, and you’d never even know, so here’s my last attempt to make it known. Some people are addicted to the fame, money, glory, and some of us can’t seem to find the thing that makes us shine. I wanna think I’m special, wanna believe it’s so, but it’s hard for me to buy it when I’m always so alone. I’ve suddenly become jaded by the way that others see me and I can’t help but force myself to think that it’s not my fault.

Choose Your Adventure

Let’s say you’re living alone, single, well off, nothing too harrying looming over your head, and you’ve decided that you’re going to take a vacation by yourself. You’re not exactly the Eat, Pray, Love type, but you wouldn’t mind a quest of self preservation. If you would, allow me to turn this around and create for you all a short story with this prompt from my own perspective, as if I were the person I described at the beginning.

I’ve been having this longing feeling, this sudden urge to get away from it all, life, the bustle, the unsettling loneliness. At least if I took a vacation, maybe being alone wouldn’t seem so noticeable because I’ll be surrounded by beauty and wonder and new and exciting things; I’ll be somewhere new where no one will know me, and where I can be someone new, too.

After wracking my brain for weeks, scouring the internet for the perfect destination for my quest, I finally decided that maybe there isn’t a perfect place, maybe the place that needed to be perfect, was in fact my state of mind. If I was going to escape, that meant from myself, too. After all, that’s where the real stress of my life lies, in my own head. I’m my biggest critic and my worst enemy, I’m sure some of you can relate, but when it comes to me personally, it cuts way deeper than it should sometimes.

That’s been my biggest battle in life, the one struggle I’ve not been able to overcome, or to at least learn to live with. It seems no matter where I am, no matter whom I’m with, I’m always liable to fall victim to my own harsh words and thoughts, my own pathetic self-sabotage. It’s way past time for me to do this, for me to go somewhere so beautiful that it’s impossible for me to make myself miserable. I’m determined, it’s finally my time to shed my skin and overcome this heavy, ugly burden that I feel I’ve been carrying around my whole life.

And just like that, at that very moment, it hit me like a train, I didn’t need to go anywhere, everything I needed was right here available to me, right in front of my face, and I was just finally realizing it. What I needed a vacation was, was from the voice inside my head, from myself, from the judgment and hate that I’m ever constantly allowing to overpower and overwhelm me. Maybe it’s time for me to accept that this will always be a struggle for me, unless I take charge, unless I decide that it ends now, that I won’t continue to live my life like this. And that’s exactly what I’m gonna do; this is my life, I know who I wanna be, and I think I finally know just how I need to proceed, with caution.


Heard is a word I’ve never been, filled with bitterness, ripe with sin. I’ve never been able to fight your wars, so don’t come knocking on my door, just let me be forever more, not that you ever listen to me anyways. I’m beat up, torn up, can’t even pick the pieces up, and yet I’ve given all I am, worked harder than I had ever planned. So let us not be ruled by man, hear my voice and I’ll take your hand, I’ll lead you to another place where you won’t have to put on a happy face. I wanna live in harmony and bring the world joy in any way I possibly can, even at the risk of being scrutinized, I’ll keep my eyes locked on the prize.

Right to Health

This is an issue I’ll argue for until I’m blue in the face, until all the breath has left my body, and it’s something that I’m beyond passionate about because it’s something I’ve personally suffered because of. Bernie Sanders is the true hero of this debate, the champion of my heart, he’s the first politician to put this at the head of his platform, universal healthcare, a right for all. When you’re a product of the system, a welfare baby, a kid who turns 18 in foster care, you get a more real experience of what it’s like to be poor, to have nothing, to have no one, but they do promise you healthcare, because they at least want you to feel taken care of in that most basic regard.

We’ve reached a point in this country where money rules everything, greed and selfishness controls us, it consumes us, especially the ones who already possess money. Instead of allocating tax breaks to the big businesses and being frivolous, we should find ways to spend more efficiently and to use it for what is truly what’s most important. What’s more important than promising that everyone will be cared for in a compassionate and humane way, that people won’t have to forgo the medical care they need to increase and enhance their quality of life. People deserve to be provided with healthcare, regardless of their race, class, gender, or not having parents that can provide for you.


I tremble at the sound of another in pain, I can’t stand to see it, wish I could intervene. I’ve always put everyone’s feelings able my own, sometimes I think it’s the only peace I know. If I can’t fix what’s inside me by doing it myself, I know I’ll find satisfaction from helping someone else. It’s my biggest strength, and my weakness alike, but my worried heart can’t ease their troubled minds. I’ve tried and tried over again to help someone see this isn’t the end, that it’ll get easier even if not better, it gets easier to cope with reality than to keep wishing for an unrealistic one. My goal is to help guide someone in need, some poor child who lacks structure like me, a kid whose parents don’t care enough to put their child’s feelings above their own, for this is a feeling I’ve always known and no one should have to face it alone.

Love Doesn’t Live Here Anymore

How deep is your love, how true is your kiss? As we lay here in love, it feels like bliss. Can’t help but wonder how you chose to be with me forever more. But there are days which I’m overcome with fear, the fear that I’ll lose you, the fear that you’ll leave. Forgive me, dear, for not only have I sinned, but I’ve been in doubt, for I didn’t wanna believe it. Forgive and forget and never come around, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you now. You left, you’re gone, I’m all alone, can’t even recall the last embrace, the last time I felt my place. But now I have become complacent, abandoned, unable to recognize faces, and I wonder what is the real meaning of life, does it even matter, and will it be alright?

Helping Hands

As someone who spent half of their childhood in, and aged out of the foster care system, I’ve had varying opinions on foster parents, why they do what they do, how they arrived at the decision to do so, and what it truly means to them. I’ve seen them all, the good, the bad, and everything in between, and for a long while there, I honestly believed that most of these people were in it for the money. While surely there is some statistical number we must attribute to being guilty of that, but it’s not as though they’re going to come right out and admit it for the purposes of a poll.

Regardless of any reasoning though, if they’re actually caring for children in need, then I’m happy. There are countless children in our country without homes, without families, without anyone or anything in the world to call their own, and I wish regularly for more kind people to open up their homes and offer refuge to them. I recall when I was younger, when I was still stuck in the system, I never thought I’d wanna be a foster parent, but now I only wish that my husband and I were in the financial position to apply, and that we had enough free time together for classes so that we could help a few helpless children in the ways that I desperately needed when I was in their shoes.

Creation Leads To Inspiration

Something I’m hell bent on teaching my daughter is the value or creating things. Useful or imaginative, it couldn’t matter less, just make something you’re proud of when your mind can’t seem to rest. From drawing to weaving rugs, to forming songs, and melting crayons on canvas, you name it, I love to do it. I’ve always enjoyed losing myself in the pursuit of something great or something beautiful, it makes me feel alive, reminds me I’m capable of great things, and allows me to focus on something constructive, something I have control over, instead of whatever has been clouding my head that day. Art is universal, language barriers play no part, no words are even needed at all. There’s nothing better than confining yourself to finish something, to complete a project or task, it’s a good mechanism, and it works your brain at the same damn time. Whether it’s a beautiful song or a colorful painting, let yourself create something, allow yourself to escape from reality, to forget about everything else, to give your mind a break from chaos. Nothing builds character better than activies in which you’re forced to challenge yourself, to push new boundaries, to try something new. Be the kind of person who enables others to be creative, and allow yourself to do the same.

Appreciating Now

Life has been really rough recently, not that that’s unusual for me, but it’s been so much harder for way too long now. I’ve finally reached my breaking point, rock bottom, and have admitted to myself what I’ve known all along: I can’t do all this alone anymore. My husband is my only friend and family besides my daughter, we’ve been best friends for years, but I’ve found myself desperately in need of female feedback. I’ve always had my girls, and we always understood each other, but I’ve reached a point where it’s damn near impossible for me to relate to or be understood by anyone. 

In the last few years, they’ve all fallen off except for one that I reconnected with last year, but she’s single and kid free and living her adult life with her own priorities and responsibilities. I’ve had my heart stomped on so many times now that I’m no longer certain that I’m able to let people in, I don’t think I could truly confide in someone, even if I wanted to. He’s been my only friend for so long that I’ve convinced myself he’s all I’m ever gonna have, and I fully believe it. There was worse things in the workd, but sometimes I need an ear or shoulder that isn’t attached to the person who already provided so much physically and financially.

Recently I’ve come to realize that if this is how things will always be, then I’d better figure out how to be perfectly happy with it, and the sooner the better. Now that’s easier said than done, obviously, but there’s something to be said for how hard it is to force yourself to become complacent enough to let go of your dreams without any visible signs of misery surrounding you. This is especially harder for me now, as a parent, the mother of a daughter, because as much as I want her to pursue her dreams and goals with all her might, I also want her to be aware how cruel people are, how sometimes no matter how hard you try, things still just never seem to go your way.

How do I teach her better coping skills than I have myself if I can’t practice what I preach? How do I expect her to hold herself to a level of standards that I myself have failed to attain in my own life? How do I do all of this without her ending up jaded, and how do I stop worrying so that I can enjoy her childhood now, so that we can make as many memories as possible while there’s still time? These are the thoughts and worries and concerns that keep me up at night, that leave me feeling crippled, physically and emotionally, that make me believe I’m already failing her, but if I don’t overcome these thoughts, then so I am failing her.

As much as I wish I had a massive family to surround her and myself with when I’m struggling or when she needs extra help or attention, I have to accept the fact that it will just never be so, it’s never gonna happen, and I’ve got all the family I’m likely ever gonna have in my life right now already. I’ve gotta appreciate now, her still being a toddler, her learning every day, and despite how hard it may seem some days, I’ve gotta know that she’s gonna have better days than I’ve ever had, than I’ve ever imagined. I need to know that she’s gonna be alright, but the best thing I can do is prepare her for being alone in a way that always prepares her to take care of herself.

Creative Writing Prompt #1

Her coffee cup slipped right out of her hand, it smashed into a thousand pieces on the kitchen floor, and as it shattered, the sound echoed through the room. It broke all silence in the house and in her mind, leaving her feeling shaken, disrupted, but finally she musters the courage to tiptoe around. Once she returns with a broom and dust pan, she notices something unusual on the ceramic; it was sticky and clear and smelled quite strange, but she couldn’t determine its origins. It appeared as though it was planted there, but she couldn’t imagine who’d put it there, or why they’d want her to drop her mug, why it made sense, or who would care. She couldn’t help think that it seemed awful silly, she lived alone and no one else had a key. There was no sign of a break in, no sign of evidence, no noticeable tampering near the cabinets.


You’d never recognize me now without knowing me then, I’m not the same girl I was, I’ve grown older and yet I struggle as a woman, this transition has me stuck. It’s almost as though I’ve run out of luck, although I’ve always known that I’ve never had too much. My luck was not enough to push things in my favor, so I’ve recognized that the luck I thought I had, I had actually created for myself. I’ve done the work, put in the time, I’ve worked so hard for everything that’s mine, so it’s time for you to recognize that I deserve the best from life. No matter what new pain and strife may come my way, I will not falter or be afraid, stumble or run away, because I am not the same.

My Top 15 Fave YA Authors

Reading was always a huge coping mechanism for me, less so over the past few years, but I’m working on getting back there. Here are some of my favorite authors and my favorite works by them.

  1. Laurie Halse Anderson – Speak, Catalyst, Twisted, Winter Girls, The Impossible Knife of Memory
  2. John Green – Looking For Alaska, An Abundance of Katherines, The Fault In Our Stars, Paper Towns
  3. David Levithan – Boy Meets Boy, The Realm of Possibility, You Know Me Well
  4. Chris Crutcher – Deadline, Staying Fat For Sarah Byrnes
  5. Ron Koertge – Strays, Boy Girl Boy, Margaux with an X, Stoner & Spaz
  6. Gail Giles – Playing in Traffic, Dead Girls Don’t Write Letters, Shattering Glass, Right Behind You
  7. Laura Wiess – Leftovers, Such A Pretty Girl
  8. Kevin Brooks – Martyn Pig, Lucas, Kissing In The Rain, Naked, Candy
  9. J. K. Rowling – Harry Potter Series
  10. Han Nolan – Dancing on the Edge, Born Blue
  11. Alex Flinn – Fade to Black, Breaking Point, Breathing Underwater
  12. Pete Hautman – Invisible, Godless
  13. Gayle Forman – If I Stay, Where She Went
  14. James Frey – My Friend Leonard, A Million Little Pieces
  15. Jay Asher – Thirteen Reasons Why


Overwhelmed is a feeling that I have always known, the true depths of which still remain unknown. Time and time again I’ve tried so hard to fight it off, but like a thorn stuck in your side, the pain won’t won’t be so easily succumbed. Sometimes it seems the feeling’s eased, but for only a short while, and afterwards I’ve come to see they were still fueling me. It won’t subside, no matter how hard I try, and with no one by my side, who will notice if I die? It’s not something I want, but it’s something we all get, you can only fight death for so long, it’ll eventually come to beckon. And until then I’ll do my best to try and overcome it.

Tick Tock

When love is all that’s left to lose, there’s not a choice, no time to lose. It’s time to look way past yourself, look into the eyes of someone else. Hold them close, the ones you love, make sure they know they’re number one. Don’t be rash, don’t be hasty, show them, find your motivation to be the best to them and then you’ll find yourself being the best version of yourself. If you can’t confide in anyone else, at least maintain to be true to yourself.


It’s almost impossible to resist the thoughts floating around inside my head. There’s nights I wish I could embrace the bliss, forget the ignorance it once fed. I just can’t seem to fight the dreams that haunt me in my sleep, can’t comprehend the message they send or why it pertains to me, can’t figure out how they got in my head, or why they won’t let me be. I’ve come to know that some things grow inside you without showing, anger and grief can fill your soul, without you ever knowing.


The scent of ash and soot as the world around you burns, your home has caught on fire, it’s destroying your life’s work. If life is what the world believes determines what you’re worth, then you’ll believe that material things are more important than your morals. I’ve come to see and now believe that things don’t count for anything, and while money buys you everything, it doesn’t change the way you you think when you’re alone, when thoughts flood your head. So don’t spare a moment, don’t hold a thought, tell everyone you love that you can’t get enough, and promise to be true to yourself and hold that above everything else.


I’ve never known the feeling of being number one, always second guessing the second chances I thought I’d earned. Left abandoned in the dark of night, down a steep and scary incline, forever lonely whether I’m alone or surrounded by a group. It’s rare today for me to be with others, through anything, this loneliness is the only constant that I have known. I’ll never understand the way that other people think, I’m never first for anything, and I have a hard time believing that I’m even a thought in someone else’s mind. I think about it all the time, how I’ll never a friend by my side. I keep writing the same old things, to different rhythms, different beats, but it’s because I’m out of luck, I’m out of time, can’t take no more.

Burning Down The House

What would I save if I had the time to think about what I’d want to survive a fire, my daughter, her food, her favorite toys, all the keepsakes from when she was born. It took for me to see this prompt to realize what’s important enough to risk my life to save for her, to show her when she’s a bit older. I wouldn’t save the concert tickets that were once my life, the pictures I have of us playing live, despite thinking that’s who I am, I know now it’s just who I was. I’m constantly struggling with identity, my life is much harder than I thought it’d be, I have far less friends that I never see than I thought I was when I was a girl, I always thought they’d stand by me. I’m a mother and a lover and nothing more, so as long as she’s safe then I couldn’t ask for more.

Through The Window

Through a telescope I view the world, withdrawn and alone, desperate to observe the way humans interact with one another, love each other, try not to judge one another. It shows me the way life is for the other side, the fortunate ones with families and friends, people they know will be there till the end. I’ve studied sociology and psychology to help me comprehend why I’d never be like anyone else, but with a better understanding of the world, I’ve become jaded, impossible for me not to feel isolated. There’s no consolation prize at the end of this ride, either you’ll make it out alive or disappear into the night. I’ve grown so weak and weary, there’s no pep left in my step, and all that I’ve got left are reminders of a life I’ll never have. If the grass was greener over there, I’d never know, because from where I’ve been standing my whole life, grass won’t even grow. You’ve salted the earth surrounding me, poisoned me in my sleep, forcing me to be so obsessed that I see you in my dreams. So take your serpent tongue, your careless lies, and leave me be so that I can try to figure out where I belong for the rest of eternity.


Bruises on friendly faces, children forced into awful situations, water running yellow and poisoned, out voices unheard, our position averted. There’s a crisis ongoing, it has been for years, but most of us live unaware of the fears that we should be focusing on, not the ones we are, but our minds can’t help but wander to small problems. It’s hard enough to diagnose what caused all this hate, how rich people can kick the homeless while they’re down. Another day, another dollar, another holocaust coming our way. Except this time it’s happening in the “greatest nation around”, and no one can seem to explain to me why our president is came to power when he’s basically Hitler reincarnated. The ignorance that was once bliss has turned dark and cold, we’ve turned against one another once again, every man for themselves.

Versatile Blogger Award Nomination

Thank you so much to Judy Redic ( for nominating me for the Versatile Blogger Award! I’d just like to say that this past month of blogging has certainly brought me some clarity, despite the fact that I’m still struggling daily to survive. Thank you to anyone and everyone who has taken the time to read or respond to my blog, I share this journey with you all.


  • You have to thank the person who nominated you and provide a link to their blog! (Being kind)
  •  Link the nominees and inform them about their nomination (passing the love, that was given)
  • Nominate at least 15 bloggers of your choice (At least)
  • Share 7 facts about yourself (being truthful)


  1. Judy Redic, My Journey (
  2. Lee, A Courageous Mess (
  3. My Simply Chaotic Life (
  4. Laura Black, Black Spot Site (
  5. Amy, Motherhood Is A Cakewalk (
  6. Confessions of Scar (
  7. Ameena, Randoms By A Random (
  8. Becoming Cliche (
  9. Samantha Mae, Lesbian Bottle Blonde (
  10. Eleynal, Just A Pizza My Mind (
  11. Michael, Desperate To Entertain (
  12. My Perfect Breakdown (
  13. After All Tomorrow Is Another Day, Beautiful Thoughts & More… (
  14. Fragments of Me, Fragments Of My Mind (
  15. TheGirlOnTheGo08, Words Can’t Fathom (
  16. Caleb Gumbs, The Ocean Inside of Me (

Facts About Myself:

  1. Writing is my only escape, my only distraction, my only means to cope.
  2. I’m a full time stay at home mother to a special needs daughter whom I adore.
  3. I suffer from several chronic pain causing diseases, scoliosis, degenerative disc, joint, and bone diseases, rheumatoid arthritis, connective tissue disease, and more.
  4. I was incredibly close to achieving my dreams, I got to perform at Vans Warped Tour with my husband in 2015.
  5. I started this blog as a way to let out all of the things that no one wants to hear, the words that scare people away.
  6. I’m the loneliest that I have ever been.
  7. Motherhood, singing, and writing are the only things that I’ve ever been good at.

It Takes A Village, But I Do It Alone

What do you do when you’re all alone? When you’re struggling to survive, wondering if you’ll ever truly get to love your life, and there’s no one by your side, how are you supposed to stay alive? My child has no one outside of us, a mother and father who care so much, but not one other familiar face, no one to help keep her heart beating pace, someone she knows she can always go to when she has a problem she doesn’t want her parents to know. I want her to know that I’m always here, a mother, a friend, a fan till the end. But I’ve seen enough to know that now it’s too hard for me to keep faking a smile, she needs positivity, guidance, and light, she needs someone else to tuck her in at night when the pain has taken over and I just need a break, someone to stay with her while my husband and I go on a date. I love him so much but I’ve forgotten how to touch or be touched without feeling like I’ll never be enough. I have no desire to be intimate, less to be attractive, and my mind is the only part of me that’s overactive. I’m missing the friends I thought I had, the mother I wish I had, the father that was supposedly bad, and all of those who claimed to care, then disappeared at the sight of a flare. My calls for help remain unanswered, and it seems as though it’ll be this way forever after.

My Teenage Angst Still Reigns

I’m gonna be 26 in two weeks and yet there’s still this insecure, young, naive feeling inside of me that I can’t seem to shake. As much of an adult as I’ve always been, I skipped the period hetween childhood and adulthood, adolescence. For a very short period was I able to operate as a normal teenager, although being subjective, I don’t know if I’ve ever been normal at all. I still feel exactly as I did 10 years ago, it’s like I’m 16 and never left, like I never figured out what came next. It’s not that I came upon this realization suddenly, it’s that I finally realize how detrimental it’s been to me, my life, my family. I never had a real role model, so I turned to television, books, movies, etc. I sought out an escape, a ray of hope, a light in the tunnel, someone to look up to, someone that deserved it. I still haven’t found that person, so I know I have to be her, because the closest thing I’ve got, is my daughter. She’s the light of my life, but she needs me to be more. She needs me to be the person I never had, the person I’m still searching for, even if I have to figure it out as I go. I’ve gotta find a way to get through this, to be who she needs, to make sure she never suffers at my hand, that I don’t hold her back, that I find enough hope to encourage her to follow her dreams, despite learning the hard way that life usually has a way of stopping you from getting what you want. I’m trying so hard, but I’m starting to question if I’m ever gonna be able to access that person.

Quitters Never Win

Optimism, pessimism, realism. What is the real difference between these points of view? For me, this is all basically still the nature vs nurture argument, are we products of our environments, or are we truly independent beings with the ability to change our cognitive thinking? Is it possible to overcome depression and it’s symptoms without medication and therapy? If I’ve always been depressed, and neither of those things have ever helped, then how am I supposed to be different? Misery is mostly all I’ve ever known, sometimes there’s solace in it, other times I’ve tried desperately to get away. But now I’m stuck with no way out.


Automatic pilot, life’s passing by, flying off the handles, escaping my third eye. Impossible to comprehend how things could go from here, will I finally let it all go, or will I let it win? Gonna take a deep breath, hold it all in, find a way to let myself believe again. Begin again, I’ve tried a thousand times, wondering why I can’t figure it out. Most people know just what to do to make themselves feel better and brand new, but here I am, a fucking mess, wishing it was easier to pretend that my life will ever reach the end, but instead I’ll focus on what I’ve got, a side of depression mixed with bad luck.

Explanation For My Break

I had to take a break from writing, my thoughts have turned blank as I’m trying to figure out how to do what’s best for my daughter. I watch TV shows with families I’d have loved to have, to learn how to be a better parent because I never had a real role model. They think there’s something else wrong with her, my brain isn’t processing things properly. I can’t wrap my mind around why this is all happening to such an innocent child. Our lives are completely out of our control, there’s only so much more I can do for her. I can’t even consider looking for a babysitter because I can barely manage her and I’m her mother. Terrified as I overlook this early head start info packet because she doesn’t know how to interact with others and can’t tolerate strangers regardless of gender. She can’t even tell me what’s causing her pain, although I have a good enough idea, it kills my heart because she’s trying so hard to tell me but doesn’t know how. My heart is breaking for my child, for the life I know I’ll never be able to give her. I wish I had someone to help, a friend who shows up unannounced and knows just how to make me smile, someone who will play with Coraline for awhile. But how am I supposed to make new friends when I never go anywhere without being in a hurry, or being on a mission. I’m drowning in a sea of misery, loneliness, and deceit.


The filter of the world today, Instagram, Snapchat, selfies taken in vain. I can’t fathom living this way, full of ego, ignoring dismay. I’m shocked that life goes on this way, but our generation is desperate. They feed on others’ attention, scared to search for true affection. But I would rather be alone, stuck inside my lonely home, than put myself out there that way, asking for attention that I can’t take. My mind’s unfiltered, smothered with remorse and regret from all the lives I couldn’t change. So many people left unphased by the misery around the world, the struggles our children are going through. But I’ve chosen another view, to take pictures in my mind, to keep them in view. The only pictures I’d like to keep are those of my daughter as she grows into herself, as she figures out who she is, as she develops into someone else. Let’s give more value to what we have, it’s the only way to fully appreciate it.


Keep it simple, so they say, and things will always go your way but I’m skeptical, and I must say, that I have tried to live my life this way. It doesn’t work, and I’ll admit, that I can’t help but hate the kids who think their problems mean a thing, a broken heart will mend in days, but the kind of life that I have faced, simply put will steal your faith. I’m trapped behind a simple wall, in a simple town, full of simpletons, but I’m not the same, I never was, and I’ll never be the girl you want. It’s simple to say what you want, the hard part is not letting it go.


One of the only things I’ve always known, don’t count on others, do what you’re told. I’ve never been one to believe that there’s anything you can’t achieve but I’m still searching for relief and I can’t seem to find my place so I’ve been moving all over this state. I’m stuck in space, I’ve lost my faith, all I wanted was to be something great. I can’t imagine who I’d have been if life hadn’t destroyed all my will. I’m sick and tired, tired of pain, and wishing I could change my name, get a new face, leave this place. I’m against changing my ways because change brings pain which I can’t take, I’m overwhelmed, overburdened, and upset. I’m devastated from everything I worked for that life took away.


Oversight, it’s what I’ve been for all my life. Oversight, it’s all I think about at night. When I’m alone with my own thoughts I can’t help but feel so fucked up over everything that happened in the past. There’s nothing I can say to share the way I know this is the end, but I’m not gonna force myself to stay. I’ve been stuck with my own thoughts, without a friend, I gave them up because I just couldn’t take it any more. No one ever thinks of me and wonders how I’m gonna be or how I managed to achieve a single thing despite my lack of will to live inside a world where nothing ever matters anyways.


Success is as relative as everything else in life, some rich in money, and some rich in wisdom from experiencing life. I personally find myself rich in pain, rich in misery, torture in my brain. The pain is never ending, so how do I succeed in a world where our government decides how to treat my pain? I’ll never hold a normal job, never able to provide a single thing for myself or daughter, relying on someone else. If only I could make you see that everything is make believe, and nothing is quite what it seems, but it seems I’ll never find relief, I’m doomed to roam the earth in vain.


Privacy is obsolete, it no longer exists. We’ve been fooled into believing that we can hide anything, when really we’ve been put under a microscope of mistrust and corruption. Corporations rule the land, we have no right to feel the anger they claim we’ve misplaced, when really we’re too late. It’s been going on since long before myself was ever born, we never truly had a chance to change things at their core. Our children’s futures compromised, sold off to the highest bidder. It’s hard to see when you’re beneath the tree, spared by shade, but us living in poverty are frying in the sun. We’re struggling to comprehend just how we can survive, when money buys you everything, even the right to be alive.


I’m distasteful, never been one to be graceful, never wanted to turn into another song, another cliché whisking myself away, but not in a good way. I wanna get away, try again to be myself another way, there’s gotta be a way to settle down in my head, so I can try to be the person I was meant to be, not what life made me to out to be. I’m jaded, my senses are faded and I’ve miscalculated the ways that I’ve been changed by your hand, from everything you’ve done and by how you made me feel, I never deserved it at all.


I’ve been exposed, my worst fears begin to show, and I’m alone, wishing I could find a home. I’m searching through my mind and wisdom to find another way to push myself, out of this hell. The snow it’s falling all around me, I’m wishing I could find another way, to pull my head from the water. I’m surrounded by the lies you told, your alibis, you never give me credit anymore because I’m your door, you walk through me and my insecurities. It’s not okay and I’m afraid that I’ll fall back into my old ways, I worked so hard to get away and now I’m right back on my way back there, to be that pathetic girl all over again.


There’s no aesthetic in an uneven life, no amount of good karma could ever make it right. I’m sad to say that I’m alone, I fear I always will be. I can’t keep up with my own mind, can’t focus on my intentions. My daughter brings me all the joy I experience in my life, so I’ve forgotten who I am outside of being a mother. There’s worse things in life, this I know, but I miss having friends, having fun, going out alone. There’s not a soul that I can confide in, I mistake my mother for the one I’ve always wanted. With every word I tell her, it feeds her ammo, and she shoots me down until she knows I’m weakened, can’t get up from the ground. I hope that I was wrong, that there’s much more to life, than all this misery, pain, and strife.


The pain is never ending, the stress cannot compare to the way it makes me feel, the way my heart breaks from despair. I’ve been running, running, running, away from all I’ve seen, into the darkness, the unknown, for it’s the only place that brings me peace. I’ll never know which way to go when I’m coming up on the crossroads, but it’s not enough to push me off the road that I’ve been traveling. I’m slowing down, losing pace, lost myself in time and space, in search of an unknown place that gives me hope and guides me home, a place I worry I’ll never know.


It’s obscene the way that people believe that they’re worth more than someone else. To think that wealth means more than me and what I’ve done, what I’ve been through, the thoughts of mine that remain unseen by the rest to the world unless I let them see. I’m scared to think of what the future holds for me, my daughter, what happens when I can’t assist her with her daily life, when my disabilities make it impossible for me to live a normal life. I’m already there, it’s already happening, it’s already hard to take care of myself, but you need my full attention now, so I hope you’ll know when I’m crippled and old that I did everything I could for you and so much more.


Am I capable of changing my fate or the way the world operates? Is it possible to figure out just what it is I’m meant to do, who I’m meant to be, only time will tell. Am I strong enough to persevere and be sincere to myself? Will I ever be enough to take care of myself, and will I ever comprehend that the means don’t justify the end? Is it stupid to believe that happiness is possible, that with this pain I will find comfort, that I’ll get out of this dungeon? I’m trapped behind these walls, but they’ve been keeping me safe from all the other ways that life can come your way and destroy what you’ve built, a tragedy and still you feel that you deserve it so you chalk it up again. Without a voice, without a choice, without a will to keep surviving, I’m not as tough, can’t give enough, I’m barely staying conscious. It’s hard for me to see, I’m stuck without relief, forever overwhelmed by pain and chasing happiness.


Someday I’d like to think it’ll be my turn to do what I want, and not what I have to. Someday I’ll be strong enough to be myself, instead of just trying to impress everyone else. I’ve wanted to chase my own selfish dreams, but for now I’ve gotta focus on my baby, putting her above the rest, and that includes my true happiness. And there’s someone that I’ve sworn one day will join my side, the one that got away, if you will, she’s been running through my mind. I can’t help but wonder what could’ve been, or how things might’ve turned out in the end. But I’ll see her in my dreams instead, wishing she could hold my hand. And if we end up alone in the end, I hope you find all the happiness within.


Stick with me like I’m your last hope to find eternal peace, cling to me like you’re a fiend for which I am all drugs. Sing with me and relish in all the glory that is love, laugh with me as we tell jokes all night long. Sit with me by the fire for awhile, contemplate how small the world is in the scheme of life. Cling to your dreams in all their glory, the ones you love, and everything else for we never know when our time is near, time for us to leave this earth. We never think it’ll happen to us, death, abuse, neglect, yet we all go through periods of dealing with these things, even if we never say it. Life is full of misconceptions, let’s enjoy what we can before it’s all ruined.

On Raising Daughters

​Let’s have a practical and realistic conversation about what’s happening to the girls and young women in this country. In the era of Trump being our president-elect, we’ve got to take this seriously and address it before it’s too late. It may already be, I can’t be sure, but that won’t stop me from trying to raise my daughter the proper way. I’ve never been one for physical violence, bit my daughter will be taught how to protect herself in case anyone ever tries to grab her, take advantage of her, or force themselves on her. I hate to raise her into thinking that there are bad people everywhere, but I’d be doing her a huge disservice to allow her to think that everyone is good and no one will hurt you. We all deserve better than that.

Raise your sons to know never to touch a woman inappropriately, think about their future friends, girlfriends, wives, and potentially daughters. We’ve gotten to a point where it’s easier to make excuses for why girls are mistreated than for why boys are mistreating them. Our society is struggling greatly to see the severity of our actions, but we’ve gotta address the impact it’s truly having. We’ve gotta take responsibility as parents, something our generation’s parents failed miserably at, and recognize the fact that this is much more than just another nature vs nurture argument we’re facing right now. While there is valid points for either nature or nurture, I’m choosing to believe that I can nurture my daughter into knowing the truth of what’s out there, that not everyone is raised by parents who worry about the future of our country, that not everyone is a good person.


There’s nothing with perfect symmetry; from branches on trees to tectonic plates, to the cracks in your heart, the uneven breaks in which life has caused a million times. There’s no time for tears, yet I can’t stop crying and trying to unveil the unevenness I feel when I attempt to explain what I see in my head. I always feel uneasy with my thoughts when I’m alone, and I haven’t figured out how to suppress them, to ignore. I’m struggling to figure out just how to shift my thoughts from my regrets into a new era of positivity, I’ve been trying to for what feels like an eternity. Uneven can’t even begin to explain just how uneven my life seems, I’ve never hurt another soul, but I’m always feeling defeated. I tell myself that karma’s coming, that it’s coming back around to repay me for how much I’ve done for everyone else. It’s time I focus energy on myself instead of others, the only one I’ll put before me is my daughter who deserves better than some sad, depresses, pathetic mom who hides to cry, shallower with shame.


I don’t need a symphony to play it out for me, I’ve come to see that times like these are not as bad as they may seem. There’s no excuse for my behavior, but I’m consumed by paranoia. Despite all that I’m just trying to feel alive, just trying to find a purpose in life that makes me feel that I’m worth while. I can’t believe the things I’ve seen so I try hard to forget them, so I can become someone else, someone with less perspective. The things that boil my blood, the suffering and poverty of mentally ill people who have no families. We’re supposed to get by on our own, no help or dignity. You judge us all like you know best, as if you’ve ever struggled. To turn 18 and be kicked out of your foster home, to have to go back to abuse that you were taken from many times, but was always forced to return back to. I’ve never met another soul who truly understand my reasons for wishing I could get away to a place with warmer seasons, and pretend like I’m some different girl, that I haven’t yet been broken, or jaded by the things in life that you have no control over.


There’s an infinite number of lonely faces, crumbling buildings, and torn down places. The streets are filled with animosity, a seemingly infinite amount of death it’s seen. I’m failing to find my purpose in life, and I’m struggling hard to see the light, yet there’s something inside me just desperate to escape. There’s hope in my heart and it’s alive, but it’s getting tougher not to fight it in my mind. I’m ashamed to say I’m not the same, and all of my good qualities are fading away. I’m isolated and I can’t face it, but I’ve become way more than just complacent. Too many tears shed in strife, I don’t know if I’ve got what it takes to fight these demons my whole life.


How do you know just what is real? What’s in a dream, and how does it feel? There’s a specific difference that I’ve come to find on how to play a trick on my mind. Sometimes I think that I disguise the way I feel, the pain inside, and take myself out for a drive to clear my head and free my mind. I’m indecisive but that’s okay, I’m no fan of certainty anyway. I’m cold and broken, I’m tired of fighting, I wish you’d see how hard I’m trying. My pain unbearable, my thoughts aren’t buying into this notion of it gets better and if it gets better then why haven’t I been able to find relief? How long do I have to live like this before it’s my turn, I don’t wanna just survive anymore I’m working on changing the way that I’ve been sabotaging myself and the happiness I can’t seem to find is buried beneath all the stress that I’ve been carrying around in my chest.


Let me float above the sky, on my search for peace. I’ll float as though I’m full of air, through the water of all the seas; it’ll appear as though I’m as weightless as a feather floating free. They say that seeing is believing, but I think that’s a lie, there’s things I see that I can’t believe, then out of sight, out of mind. It’s not uncommon for us to drown, below the surface of all life’s woes, but if you’ll try to float with me, then maybe we’ll leave behind all the hurt.


There one was a time when all was calm, when things seemed good, till I got the call. There was something strange in the air that night, something in my gut told me something wasn’t right. I can’t believe it happened to you, I never thought it could be true, but now I lay here, eyes open wide, wishing you were by my side. I’ve always been tempted to attempt suicide, but now I have a reason to abide. I’m tempted to join you, where ever you are, and if I can’t find you then I hope I’ll find the dark.

Sweet Coraline

Pregnancy was unexpected, at the time unwanted, and I was beyond terrified. On May 2014 I would find out that I was 5 weeks pregnant, the biological father was already out of the picture, he used me just like so many others, except this time it wasn’t just me that was abandoned. It took me weeks to get ahold of him, though it made no difference whatsoever, she just turned 2 and he’s never even attempted to meet her. Instead, I was incredibly lucky. My previous boyfriend and I ended up getting back together by summer 2014. We were only broken up for 6 months, my life was in such shambles after it happened that I completely strayed from the path I set for myself, and it ended up deciding the rest of my life for me.

Aside from the obvious and expected symptoms of pregnancy, something inside me felt strange, wrong, and it made it incredibly difficult for me to bond with her during the pregnancy. We wouldn’t find out until my scheduled c-section on December 18, 2014 that my placenta had been dead for over a month, that she was incredibly underweight, deprived of nutrients and oxygen, and that she wasn’t able to retain enough body heat. She had to be closed up in this awful see-through box, we could only touch her every 3 hours, after the initial 8 hour period that I didn’t get to see her after I gave birth. The feeding tube would come that night, when my body refused to produce any breast milk, and when she refused to latch on to bottles.

My body felt tortured, violated, abused, and I was far beyond feelings of failure because the one thing my body was built for, it couldn’t even do properly. She was starved, her brain suffered damage, and on top of the nausea I already experienced before my pregnancy, it was now a constant daily occurrence. I gained 16lbs while I carried her, and after never having had a cavity before in my life, I developed 9 throughout those 9 months. Having to set an alarm on my phone to get her out every 3 hours, even all through the night, was the darkest and most painful moment of my entire life. Knowing that my body did this to her, messed up her chances at being healthy, made me feel worthless and inferior.

By the time she was 6 months old, it had already become apparent that she was behind, and that she was incredibly underweight still despite having been on formula with extra calories from birth. It took about 6 months after that to actually get her into therapy; physical therapy, occupational therapy, and dieticians poked, prodded, and pushed her to the point where she no longer tolerated being around anyone but my husband and I. They told me she has sensory processing disorder, not that I had a clue what that meant. Therapy only lasted a few months, and it mostly entailed of her crying inconsolably, not cooperating with them, and them giving us things to work on with her at home. They eventually ended up explaining that since she had not made any improvements with them, that they wouldn’t see her anymore, in order to help children who are able and/or willing to cooperate during scheduled sessions.

There’s nothing more painful than a therapist telling you that your daughter may never let you hold her hand, or kiss her cheek, that she may not be capable of feeding herself, that potty training would be increasingly difficult. So far she’s printed them wrong about everything, minus the potty training, but we haven’t even tried that yet. It took her awhile to get caught up, but now she’s walking, running, and babbling up a storm on a daily basis, exploring everything, and fine tuning her motor skills with her toys and books. She’s smart, funny, healthy, and above everything else, she’s happy.

I’m not sure where the future will lead us, when she will be ready for potty training or preschool, but I do know that I’ve done more research on her sensory needs, ways to stimulate them, and ways to make her feel more comfortable than I’ve done on anything else. I’ve done absolutely everything I can to address all her needs, and every single day that means putting her first, pushing my needs aside so that I can focus on her. Some days are harder than others, sometimes I wish someone would take care of me that intently, but when she comes running to my arms, smiling ear to ear, it makes life easier to deal with.


Crossing my fingers to hope for the best, crossing my scarf across my neck. The sinking feeling of uncertainty, with the bone breaking cold makes me wish I’d disappear, and leave this place for good. Crossing paths with those who are like me is never easy, but I digress, it adds fuel to the fire burning inside my chest. This world is cruel, its people heartless, most of whom pass constant judgment. Why should I trust myself to be open, to share my true thoughts, when the looks I get make me wish I were dead, just for thoughts I cannot control, the things crossing my mind when I’m alone.

Fighting Sleep

Sleep is both my most dreaded time of day, but also my most cherished. When you’ve got chronic pain, you become a slave to yourself. You push and pull yourself all over, knowing eventually you’ll reach some sort of breaking point, yet knowing your daughter still needs you for many years yet to come. She’s special needs, she’s developmentally behind, but she’s happy and healthy. It’s a constant battle in my mind, the concept of reaching out, asking for help. I’ve tried before, more times than I can count, and now I’m at the point where I’d rather just grin and bare it than have to cope with the disappointment and resentment of my please being ignored. People are cruel, they’ll lead you on, tell you they’re always but here, don’t be a stranger, hit me up sometimes, the usual social media excuses. Don’t lie like that to people who are truly struggling, if we trust you enough to reach out for help, and you deliberately disregard it entirely, then you’re the worst kind of person. How do I sleep with the weight of the world on my shoulders? With a daughter who needs me? With a husband who deserves better than me? Only time will tell how long I can continue to push through, to go without treatment for fear of addiction, judgment, or becoming too impaired to be alone with my daughter for the 50+ hours my husband works every week now. How do I shut off my brain’s constant chatter in the background of my mind, always making sure I can’t forget that there’s never enough money for everything we need. How do I find peace? How can I allow my muscles to release when all this tension consumes me and dooms me to feel more pain? What happens when the one position I can lay in somewhat comfortably enough to fall asleep, suddenly becomes uncomfortable? It wouldn’t be the first time, and I know it won’t be the last. But what about the fact that we can’t afford the expensive mattresses that I know could change my life by allowing me to feel real relief from this crumbling structure I’m stuck with? This country works against me, mid 20’s with no job, applying for social security, a program so flawed that we’ve been living in poverty while I’m consistently denied the help that I need and deserve. I’m so tired of not being able to sleep when I’m tired, so exhausted of focusing on staying still while laying down, despite what feels like dozens of itching and scratching bugs crawling all over NY skin, underneath my skin even. This is either a symptom of my paranoia or my body playing games it knows I can’t win. What’s the best outcome for me, my family, my life? What’s to show for all the pain I’ve put aside, all I’ve endured? Will it ever get better? How could it possibly when I’ll never feel better?


Gone are the nights we shared in the moonlight, basking in all its’ glory. Gone are the times we shared everything, words now lost in the deep abyss of our minds. Gone are the days when we relished in each other, wishing time would stop forever. Gone is the feeling of never ending bliss, when we’d ignore the world, engulfed in each kiss. Gone are the memories of happiness, replaced with animosity. Gone are my ambitions, the dreams that I once had, for all my will has been stripped from me, all that’s left is a shell. Gone is my ability to see the light, all the positivity has been stripped from my mind, the color has left my eyes, making everything dark inside.

Depression Kills

I wish there was an easy way to write down how I feel, a way to explain all the heartache I can’t heal. I’m struggling to find myself in a sea of drowning souls, the waves are crashing down around the life I’ve tried to mold. Depression reigns inside of me, its true depths I’ll never know. It seems it didn’t get easier to cope as everyone said it would. Faking it and never making it takes a toll after awhile, some days I can’t be brought to fake as much as a simple smile. Overwhelmed can’t begin to describe the way it feels to know the things I know, and the things I hear when I’m alone. I’ve been screaming out, my words are gone without a sound. Like smoke in the wind, I rise and fall against my will again.

My spirit has been broken, beaten, and battered, the only dreams I seem to remember are ones that end with my brain splattered, my life shattered. The only comprehension I can seem to make is that I’m longing for eternal peace, I’m longing for death. Despite all the effort that I make, all the steps I take, and all of the heartbreak, I’m uncertain as to what it means, what I’ve learned, how I’ve changed. Can someone please tell me which pill I should take to silence the shame? Is there someone who can reroute my fate? Will I ever catch a break? My only option right now is to wait.

One Day…

​Maybe one day people will see, you can’t feed the hungry with a diamong ring. In this world of insanity, it’s hard for people to be at peace. Judged on our religious beliefs, as though believing would be seeing, but it turns out that believing is deceiving. Let’s go back to a simpler time, go back in time to when the world seemed innocent and kind, and not flawed by design. And for those of us who grew up in the hood, whether you escaped or not, even if you’re still caught up, you deserve a standing ovation, an acknowledgment that you’re still alive, an inspiration to remind you of the times when ignorance was bliss and bliss was blind.

It’s been so long since I’ve seen my true self, and with all the time that’s passed, I think I’ve become someone else, I don’t recognize my reflection as I pass. It’s been awhile since I’ve known who I am, so long it seems that I can’t remember what makes me, me. But I can’t pretend like things are fine, I’m in denial, please reach my hand before I fall back into the same old things that kill, and fill this gaping hole with angst and anguish, pain and sorrow. Please hear my screams, my desperate cries for help, please see the real me, before I’m gone for good, before I give up on myself.

I’m underrated, underappreciated, and now I’m sad to say that all the better days I’ve seen have all begun to fade away. But I keep my eyes high, always looking up to the sky, in search of brighter days, cause as they all say they’ll come my way eventually. And yet I’m always waiting, always impatiently awaiting the arrival of the happiness I’ve earned, and the departure of my woes. But it never ends, this madness and sadness I’m living with, will be with me forever so it seems until I’m laid to rest, until my final days, until my body’s turning cold & gray, then maybe I can finally see the bright light at the end of the tunnel, instead of the darkness paved in front of me, so I can see that pain does not define me, so I can finally be free of the stigma, of the silent judgment that’s been haunting me for an eternity, and maybe then I’ll finally feel relief.