Echoes of a Fractured Dream

In a land once bound by dreams so grand, 

Where freedom's promise took its stand, 

Echoes of the past now softly weep, 

As shadows in the present creep. 

The founders' words, a guiding light, 

“All men are equal,” clear and bright, 

Yet now those truths seem far away, 

In a world where values sway. 

Years of struggle, voices raised, 

For civil rights, for justice praised, 

Now dismissed with a casual sneer, 

Branded “woke” with insincere jeer. 

The flag that waved with pride and grace, 

Now feels a weight, a solemn trace, 

Of leaders driven by their greed, 

Ambition's hunger, ego's seed. 

In hearts of many, doubt takes hold, 

As stories of our past are told, 

With faith in country worn and thin, 

And trust a fragile, wavering thing. 

Embarrassment, a heavy cloak, 

For ideals that once brightly spoke, 

Now tangled in a web of lies, 

Beneath a sky of muted cries. 

Yet in this darkness, sparks remain, 

Of those who strive through doubt and pain, 

For in the heart of this great land, 

Lies strength to rise, to take a stand. 

Though clouds of despair may linger near, 

The spirit of the people will persevere, 

For in the soul of every fight, 

Lies the promise of a brighter light.

EUPHORIA

In the garden of life, where wild winds wail, 

The path can be thorny, the journey a gale. 

With shadows that linger and fears that confide, 

Life's trials and struggles we cannot abide. 

Yet in the tempest, a whisper is heard, 

A song of resilience, a soft-spoken word. 

For beauty and terror, they dance hand in hand, 

In the chaos of life, we learn to withstand.

The curveballs come flying, with no warning sign, 

They test our resolve, our spirits entwine. 

But courage is found in the heart's quiet beat, 

In the moments we rise, refusing defeat.

For every dark night, a dawn waits to break, 

In the depths of despair, new strength we awake. 

It's how we respond, how we choose to engage, 

That writes our own story on life's endless page. 

So when fear takes hold and the road seems unclear, 

Remember the light that will always be near. 

In the dance of existence, both beauty and pain, 

We find our true selves, like flowers in rain. 

With each step we take, with each breath we embrace, 

We navigate life, finding our place. 

For in hardship and struggle, we learn to be free, 

Crafting a life of both terror and beauty.

What they never say

No one warns you of the weight—

How love sits heavy on your chest,

How sometimes you'll lie awake

Wondering if you've failed the test.

They don't mention in romance books

How terrifying trust can be,

How vulnerability looks

When stripped of all its poetry.

No one speaks of mundane pain:

The toothpaste caps, the coffee rings,

The way small habits drive you insane,

The doubt that everyday life brings.

They skip the chapter on the work,

The constant choice to stay and fight,

The conversations that you shirk,

The compromise that feels not quite right.

No one tells you of the fear

That comes with loving someone so—

How much it costs to keep them near,

How fast your walls will have to go.

They paint it golden, paint it sweet,

But love's a battlefield inside,

Where victory and failure meet,

Where joy and terror coincide.

Yet somehow in this messy space,

Between the truth and what they tell,

We find a raw and precious grace

That makes the hardship serve us well.

Ode to Olive

In the soft glow of the evening light, 

You curl beside me, a comforting sight, 

With a gentle purr, you chase away fears, 

In your warm presence, I find peace from tears. 

Your emerald gaze, so wise and bright, 

Holds the secrets of day and the calm of night, 

With every nudge and every soft paw, 

You wrap me in love, a bond without flaw. 

When the world feels heavy, and shadows creep near, 

You’re my little warrior, my heart’s quiet cheer, 

In your playful antics, I find pure delight, 

A beacon of joy, my heart takes flight. 

With every whisker, every gentle nudge, 

You teach me patience, you teach me love, 

A silent promise, a vow so deep, 

In your soft presence, my heart you keep. 

So here’s to you, my feline friend, 

A love that blossoms, that will never end, 

In every moment, together we roam, 

With you, dear Olive, I am always home.

When safety is a privilege?

Like Angelou's pressed palm against glass,

I watch their freedom as I pass —

Through corridors of white-washed power,

Where fear marks every passing hour.

The moon knows my secrets deep,

In streets where respect lies asleep.

Hope — has feathers — but mine are clipped —

By systems — built on — privilege slipped —

Into every — institution's door —

While I — stand watching — from the floor —

What happens to a dream denied?

Does it sink like stones in troubled seas?

Or does it burn beneath our pride,

Like truth beneath their pleasantries?

Fragment of woman, piece of whole,

Like Sappho's verses, torn and sold.

In marble halls where power dwells,

My story breaks like ancient shells.

Like love that cannot stay silent,

My pain searches where to scream.

My silence will not protect me here,

As Lorde taught through her fierce grace.

Each breath becomes a revolution,

In this white-male dominated space.

Wild and precious is this life,

Even through the darkest strife.

Oliver's geese still point the way

To survival, day by day.

Rich taught me to dive deep down,

Into wreckage of what should be.

Finding strength in broken places,

Where their eyes refuse to see.

Millay's flame burns in my chest,

As I navigate their world possessed

By rules that bend for some, not all,

While justice watches from her fall.

Voices Unheard

In the shadows of fluorescent light, 

Where dreams once danced, now take flight, 

A job that promised growth and grace, 

Turns into a suffocating space. 

With whispers of favoritism in the air, 

White males ascend, while others despair, 

No resources to lift us, just high demands, 

In a world where only one type stands. 

Expectations tower, like walls made of stone, 

No room for mistakes, you’re left all alone, 

Suggestions dismissed, like whispers in the wind, 

In this toxic realm, where hope grows thin. 

Gaslighting echoes in each hollow hall, 

“Your worth is measured, you’re not that tall,” 

DEI’s just a buzzword, a mask they wear, 

While kindness is seen as a flaw laid bare. 

Micromanaged dreams, like birds in a cage, 

Each step scrutinized, a scripted stage, 

The clock ticks slow, yet the pressure mounts, 

In this toxic dance, no one recounts. 

Yet deep within, a spark still glows, 

A whisper of change, a seed that grows, 

For those who stand strong, who dare to believe, 

Can break these chains, and learn to achieve. 

So here’s to the fighters, the voices unheard, 

In a world that’s unjust, let’s rise like a bird, 

With courage and strength, we’ll rewrite the tale, 

And forge a new path, where all can prevail.

The Flower’s Resillience

In the heart of Mexico City, where the vibrant colors of the market mingled with the sounds of laughter and the aroma of spices, a young Aztec woman named Xochitl moved through the crowd with a purpose. The year was 1521, and the air was thick with tension. The Spanish had arrived, bringing with them a wave of change that threatened to engulf her world.

Xochitl was known for her fierce spirit and deep connection to her heritage. Her name, meaning "flower," was a testament to her family's lineage, rooted in the traditions of the Aztec people. But now, as she navigated the bustling streets, she felt the weight of uncertainty pressing down on her. The Spanish soldiers patrolled the area, their presence a constant reminder of the danger that loomed over her and her people.

As she turned a corner, Xochitl spotted a group of her fellow villagers huddled together, whispering urgently. She approached them, her heart racing. “What news?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“They are taking our people,” one of the women replied, her eyes wide with fear. “They seek to use us as laborers, as servants. We must find a way to resist.”

Xochitl’s heart sank. The thought of being taken, stripped of her identity and forced into servitude, filled her with dread. She had heard stories of those who had been captured, their spirits broken, their culture erased. But she refused to let that happen to her or her people.

“I will not stand by and let this happen,” Xochitl declared, her voice steady. “We must find a way to escape, to protect our traditions.”

The others nodded, their resolve strengthening. Together, they devised a plan to gather their families and flee to the mountains, where they could find refuge among the hidden villages that still honored the old ways.

As night fell, Xochitl led her group through the winding streets of the city, careful to avoid the watchful eyes of the soldiers. The moon cast a silvery glow, illuminating their path as they moved silently, like shadows in the darkness. Each step felt like a heartbeat, a reminder of the life they were fighting to preserve.

But just as they reached the outskirts of the city, the sound of clattering armor echoed behind them. The soldiers had discovered their escape. Panic surged through Xochitl as she turned to her friends. “Run! Don’t look back!” she shouted, urging them forward.

In the chaos, Xochitl stumbled, falling to the ground. She quickly scrambled to her feet, but the soldiers were closing in. Just as she felt the grip of a soldier’s hand on her arm, a fierce determination surged within her. She would not be taken without a fight.

With a swift motion, she broke free from his grasp and darted into the shadows of an alley. Her heart raced as she navigated the narrow passageways, the sounds of pursuit echoing behind her. She could hear her friends calling out, their voices mingling with the clamor of the soldiers.

Finally, she found a hidden alcove, a small space where she could catch her breath. As she pressed her back against the cool stone wall, she closed her eyes and focused on her identity—the traditions of her people, the songs of her ancestors, the stories of resilience that had been passed down through generations.

In that moment, she vowed to herself that she would not let fear define her. She would stand by her people, fight for her culture, and preserve the spirit of the Aztec way of life.

With renewed strength, Xochitl emerged from her hiding place, ready to face whatever came next. She would not be a prisoner of her circumstances; she would be a warrior for her people, a flower that refused to wilt in the face of adversity. And as she ran towards the mountains, she carried with her the hope of a brighter future, one where her identity would flourish, unbroken and proud.

Beyond their Shadows: A resilient flame

In a world where shadows loom, 

I walk through halls that feel like tombs, 

With every glance, a silent shout, 

They see my skin, my gender, doubt. 

They’ve cast their judgments, sharp and swift, 

In their eyes, I’m just a rift, 

A label pinned, a story told, 

Yet fail to see the heart of gold. 

I’ve toiled through nights, my spirit strong, 

With dreams that echo, a fervent song, 

But in their gaze, I’m just a name, 

A fleeting face in a cruel game. 

My work, my drive, a fire inside, 

Yet they perceive me as a tide, 

A wave of difference, not a spark, 

In their indifference, I feel the dark. 

Each effort met with silent scorn, 

A battle fought, yet feeling worn, 

They miss the strength that fuels my fight, 

The brilliance hidden from their sight. 

But in this struggle, I find my voice, 

A quiet power, a steadfast choice, 

For though they judge what they can’t see, 

I’ll rise above, I’ll set me free. 

With every step, I’ll carve my path, 

Defy the odds, embrace the wrath, 

For in my heart, a fire burns bright, 

A testament to my endless fight. 

So let them whisper, let them cast, 

Their fleeting shadows, they won’t last, 

For I am more than what they see, 

A force of nature, wild and free.

To my Dearest Penguin

In a world so vast, where dreams can feel small, 

You emerged like a star, answering my call. 

My charming penguin, with a heart full of grace, 

You challenge me gently, in every embrace. 

Through the currents of life, you empower my quest, 

With your curiosity, you bring out my best. 

You love me for me, and my loved ones, too, 

In the warmth of your laughter, my worries undo. 

With wit that could dazzle, and humor so bright, 

You fill every moment with pure delight. 

Kindest of souls, you waddle right near, 

In the dance of our lives, you quell every fear. 

My lover, my friend, through thick and thin, 

Together we conquer, together we win. 

In your flippered embrace, I've found my true home, 

In this crazy life journey, with you I will roam. 

So here’s to the future, with wonders in store, 

With you by my side, I could not ask for more. 

Let’s dive into adventure, let our spirits take flight, 

For my beloved penguin, you are my heart’s light.

Blindsided by the medical system

At 18, a diagnosis cast in stone,

Echoes of certainty, in each tone,

Endocrinologists, voices so clear,

Black or white, no room for fear.

Told you were this or that, no shades of gray,

A label too narrow, a price to pay,

In the search for classification, you found,

A truth unfound, a lost profound.

Doubt crept in, trust began to fray,

In the medical system, led astray,

Wavering faith in the words they spoke,

The truth obscured in a cloud of smoke.

Eyes strained in the quest for clarity,

A journey marred by disparity,

Misdiagnosed, the shadows loomed,

A battle fought, a path cocooned.

But in the darkness, a light did gleam,

A voice within, a silent stream,

Trust not in labels, in boxes confined,

Your truth transcends, a rare find.

A lesson learned in the depths of doubt,

The system flawed, but you hold the clout,

To navigate the journey ahead,

With resilience, with courage led.

Embrace the uncertainty, the unknown,

A spirit resilient, uniquely grown,

For in the gray areas, the blurred lines,

Your truth shines bright, steadfastly shines.

No Soul wears the same skin

In a world that spins on threads of time, 

Each heart beats unique, each voice a rhyme. 

From mountains high to valleys deep, 

We weave our tales, some laugh, some weep. 

Your journey's path, a winding road, 

With heavy burdens, lightened load. 

In storms of doubt or skies so clear, 

Every step taken, a story here. 

A dance of shadows, a burst of light, 

In every sorrow, in every fight. 

No two souls wear the same skin, 

In the depths of loss, or the joy within. 

Some find solace in the quiet night, 

Others in laughter, or the morning light. 

We paint our canvases, rich and bold, 

With colors of love, both timid and gold. 

The tales of struggle, the whispers of grace, 

In every heartbeat, in every face. 

Together we stand, yet apart we roam, 

In the symphony of life, we create our home. 

So let us cherish our differences wide, 

In the fabric of humanity, side by side. 

For what makes us human, in truth so profound, 

Is the beauty of stories, in every sound.

Cold Coffee

Sarah sat at her kitchen table, a cup of cold coffee untouched in front of her. The early morning light filtered through the blinds, casting faint patterns on the walls. She sighed, staring at her laptop screen filled with job applications, each one meticulously completed yet unanswered.

It had been three months since she’d left her last job. The memories of that toxic environment still haunted her: the relentless criticism, the impossible deadlines, and the subtle but unmistakable hostility that had withered her joy and passion. Sarah had always loved her work. She had poured years into developing her skills and gaining experience. But at her last job, all of that passion had been buried under layers of anxiety, depression, and a sense of powerlessness.

Her stomach churned as she scrolled through new job listings. Each opportunity seemed like a double-edged sword. On one hand, a job meant stability, financial security, and a return to the work she truly loved. On the other hand, the fear of ending up in another toxic environment gnawed at her. Her last job had left her with scars, both mental and emotional. The thought of facing something similar again was almost unbearable.

“I can’t go back to that,” she whispered to herself. “Not again.”

But the reality of her situation weighed heavily. Bills were piling up, and her savings were dwindling fast. The gap between her need for income and her need for mental peace was closing dangerously.

Sarah’s phone buzzed, jolting her from her thoughts. A message from her friend Lisa.

“Hang in there, Sarah. Something good will come your way. You deserve a job that appreciates you.”

She wanted to believe Lisa’s words, but the looming uncertainty made it difficult. She rubbed her temples, feeling the familiar pang of a headache forming.

“Maybe I should just settle for something, anything,” she pondered aloud. “At least I’d be able to pay the bills.”

But then the words of her therapist echoed in her mind: “Your mental health is priceless. Don’t compromise it for anything.”

The memory of those grueling days at her last job flashed through her mind—days when she had come home exhausted, nights filled with anxiety-laden insomnia, and mornings where the thought of going back made her physically ill. She knew that without her mental health, she couldn’t truly thrive, no matter how impressive her paycheck might be.

Her eyes fell on a new job listing, this one from a small, family-run company. The salary was modest, nowhere near what she had been making, but the description seemed genuine, fostering a supportive and collaborative environment. She hesitated, weighing her options.

Taking a deep breath, she began to fill out the application. As her fingers moved across the keyboard, she felt a sliver of hope—hope that this time, she might have both financial security and a nurturing workplace.

Hours later, after she hit submit, Sarah leaned back in her chair, feeling both drained and a bit lighter. The journey was far from over, but she had taken a step, not just toward employment, but toward a healthier balance between her passion and her well-being.

She glanced at her cold coffee, smiling faintly. “Here’s to finding a place where I can truly belong,” she murmured, lifting the cup in a small, hopeful toast to herself and the future she deserved.

Belonging

In a world where whispers echo loud, 

tread on paths beneath a shroud, 

Where thoughts like flowers, vibrant and bold, 

Are stifled, labeled, and left untold. 

Each word I speak, a careful dance, 

Afraid to share, to take a chance, 

For in the shadows, judgment waits, 

To twist my voice, to seal my fates. 

When passion rises, a flame inside, 

It’s met with silence, a raging tide, 

For raising a voice is seen as rude, 

A clash of colors, a bitter feud. 

Yet deep within, a longing grows, 

To share my heart, to let it flow, 

To stand in truth, to be sincere, 

But fear of scorn keeps me unclear. 

Oh, to be me, unmasked and free, 

To share my thoughts, to simply be, 

In a space where differences bloom, 

And understanding chases away the gloom. 

So here I stand, with dreams in hand, 

Hoping one day, we’ll understand, 

That every voice, a note in song, 

Together, we can all belong.

Corporate World

In the heart of New York City, Emma worked tirelessly as a senior manager in a fast-paced corporate firm. Every morning, she suited up, masking her insecurities with a brave face and stepping into the battlefield that was the corporate world.

From the very beginning, Emma felt the weight of unspoken expectations pressing down on her. She knew she was smart, capable, even brilliant in her field, but it never seemed enough. Her office was a storm of expectations, biases, and unrelenting pressure. If she asserted herself in meetings, she was labeled as "bossy," whispered about behind closed doors as that "bitch" from finance. Yet, if she took a softer approach, she was seen as weak, easy to overrule—a pushover.

Her daily battle was not just against deadlines and targets but against an invisible barrier that told her she didn't belong. Her ideas were often met with polite nods, only to be dismissed moments later when repeated by a male colleague. It was a constant dance of proving herself, of shouting through the chaos just to be heard, let alone respected.

Emma found herself burning the candle at both ends. She arrived first and left last, sacrificing weekends, holidays, and family gatherings. Her personal life fell by the wayside. Relationships with friends faded into distant memories, and her health began to suffer. Stress and exhaustion were her constant companions. Despite her obvious competence, she faced the unfair reality that she had to work four times as hard as her white male counterparts, many of whom lacked her experience and intellect. Their privilege seemed to carry them effortlessly where she had to fight tooth and nail.

One evening, as Emma sat alone in her office, the city lights twinkling outside her window, she took a moment to reflect. The endless chase for validation, for recognition, was consuming her. The price was too high. She realized she might never change the system single-handedly, but she could reclaim her self-worth and well-being.

Emma began to set boundaries, advocating for herself in ways that protected her mental and physical health. She connected with other women in the company, forming a support network. Together, they found strength in numbers, pushing for gradually, but undeniably significant, changes.

Though the corporate world remained a challenging landscape, Emma discovered resilience within herself and a community of allies. She learned the power of persistence and the importance of self-care. In a world that often tried to silence her, Emma realized her voice mattered more than ever. She might always feel the burden of proving herself, but she no longer carried it alone.

Less Than

In shadows cast by careless hands, 

I wander through forgotten lands, 

Brushed off like leaves on a winter's ground, 

In a world of silence, no solace found. 

Unseen, my cries hidden in air, 

Underneath the weight of their indifferent glare, 

Tormentors dance on the edges of light, 

While I stumble through dreams that haunt my night. 

With every laugh that sliced like glass, 

Each glance that turned me into past, 

I gathered wounds that festered and grew, 

A garden of pain, where hope barely sprouted through. 

Anger ignites in a heart withdrawn, 

A wildfire blazing before the dawn. 

For every slight, every cruel remark, 

They lit the match that left its mark. 

PTSD, my shadow and chain, 

A heavy cloak woven from grief and pain. 

Left to sift through the debris of me, 

Picking pieces I never thought would be free. 

Undervalued, anchored by doubt, 

Whispers of “less than” echo about. 

Yet amid the rubble, a flicker remains, 

A will to rise from these countless strains. 

I gather my strength from every ache, 

With each fractured moment, a chance to remake. 

Transcending the anger that held me so tight, 

I take back my power, reclaiming my light. 

Though they cast me aside, I'll no longer break, 

From the ashes of trauma, a new life I'll make. 

No more a victim, but a warrior bold, 

In the tapestry woven, my story is told.

Muse

In colors vivid, a canvas bright, 

Frida's spirit dances, a fierce light. 

With strokes of sorrow, joy entwined, 

Her pain, a mirror, our hearts aligned. 

A heart adorned with thorns, yet bold, 

Through brokenness, a story unfolds. 

Each brush a whisper, each hue a sigh, 

In every line, the strength to defy. 

Resilience blooms in the garden of grief, 

Her wounds unmasked, a source of relief. 

From the ashes of struggle, beauty takes flight, 

In the depth of her darkness, she sparks our own light. 

Oh, how we resonate with her flame, 

In the mirror of pain, we find our name. 

Her laughter, a song, in the depths of despair, 

Reminds us that love is forever laid bare. 

With every creation, we stitch our own seams, 

Finding solace in art, in unraveling dreams. 

For in Frida’s journey, we gather our might, 

To dance with our shadows, to reach for the light. 

So here’s to the spirit that leads us to live, 

In the tapestry woven with all that we give. 

Through struggles, we flourish, like blossoms in rain, 

Inspired by Frida, we rise from our pain.

Rogers

In the depths of despair, anxiety's cruel hold,

A journey of shadows, a story untold.

Scared and anxious, seeking a way out,

Feeling lost in the darkness, consumed by doubt.

A sad reflection of the person I once knew,

Life's colors faded, joy out of view.

Swallowed up by the vastness of strife,

Questioning the purpose of this ongoing life.

Seeking help was a battle, a test of my might,

Fearing judgment, fearing the light.

A belief that something was fundamentally wrong,

A struggle within, a soulful song.

The journey unfolded, not a quick fix in sight,

But skills were gained, shining a light.

Learning of triggers, understanding my core,

Becoming aware of what I held in store.

Determined now, to face what may come,

The road ahead, no longer fearsome.

Challenges met with a spirit so true,

Complaints voiced, yet the work I pursue.

So here I stand, resilient and strong,

Battling anxieties, righting the wrong.

A journey ongoing, a path to unfold,

With bravery as my guide, a story yet untold.

Lessons

In the tapestry of life, we intertwine,

Strangers crossing paths, for a fleeting time.

Some come to teach what lies within,

Unveiling truths, beneath the skin.

Each encounter a lesson, profound and clear,

Moments shared, so sincere.

A dance of souls, a delicate rhyme,

Exchanging gifts, for just a short time.

We learn from them, they learn from us,

In this transient journey, we trust.

For in the briefest meeting of eyes,

Lies wisdom that forever flies.

So cherish those who come and go,

Their purpose known, their seeds they sow.

For in the briefest touch, we find,

A universe of connections, intertwined.

In the silent night

In the quiet of night, she silently weeps, 

heart tangled in secrets she's forced to keep. 

His words like whispers, his actions unclear, 

Leaving her longing, drowning in fear. 

Expectations of forever, of vows untold, 

But in his eyes, a hesitation behold. 

She feels like a shadow in his perfect design, 

Her flaws exposed, her worth in decline.

Past trauma and mistakes, a heavy chain, 

In his heart, echoes of lingering pain. 

Unable to trust, unable to believe, 

Their love held back, struggling to breathe.

She longs to break free from the bonds of despair, 

To find solace in a love that's fair. 

But he lingers on, refusing to release, 

Leaving her heartache never to cease. 

In the depths of her sorrow, she finds a glimmer of light, 

A strength within her, ready to take flight. 

For love should uplift, not shackle or bind, 

May she find peace and healing in her heart and mind.

Restless Mind

In the quiet corners of a restless mind,

Where anxiety and doubt entwined,

A heart beats loud with love and care,

Yet whispers of insecurity linger in the air.

Bringing together dear ones so close,

Should be joyous, like a blooming rose,

But a storm brews within, a battle of will,

Anxious thoughts that won't stay still.

Am I enough? What's wrong with me?

Questions without answers, shadows flee,

Yet the fear holds tight, a heavy chain,

Silencing words, causing inner pain.

In the depths of silence, the heart cries,

Longing to speak, to bridge the skies,

But anxiety's grip is strong and cold,

Leaving a story untold, a treasure untold.

Oh, inner turmoil, a tangled knot,

In the arms of love, a painful spot,

Yet hope remains, a flickering light,

Guiding through the darkest night.

For in the depths of vulnerability and fear,

Strength emerges, crystal clear,

Love will conquer, fears will fade,

In the embrace of love, a heart is made.