I traced the lines of your voice
in the dark
learning the map of your thoughts
without touching
and in that silence
I understood intimacy
is not just skin and breath
but the slow revelation
of what it means
to trust someone
with your quietest pieces
Tag Archives: creative-writing
Shine your light
In a world heavy with shadows, where fear and anger seem louder than anything else, it is easy to feel small, to think your light could never matter. But even the tiniest flame can push back the dark. Being a light does not mean you are unbroken or that you never feel the weight of the night; it means you choose, again and again, to shine anyway. A kind word, a patient gesture, a smile offered when no one is watching, these are sparks, and sparks can grow, quietly, steadily, until they touch more than you ever imagined. Light spreads not because it is grand, but because it refuses to be silent. It reminds the world that darkness is never absolute, that hope can exist even in the corners that feel most lost. When everything seems heavy, when despair whispers that nothing can change, you can plant your small flame, let it tremble and flicker, and trust that even the smallest glow can guide someone home. To be a light is to show up, to speak your truth, to offer warmth in a cold place, to keep shining when it feels impossible. It is a quiet rebellion, a gentle courage, a reminder that even in the blackest night, one spark can ripple across the world and remind us all that hope has not vanished.
The shape of quiet
I close my eyes and drown out
the sound of goodbye
pretending silence
is kinder than the truth
I tell myself this ache
will soften with time
that absence
is just another word for rest
but the quiet keeps your shape
lingers where your laughter used to be
and every unspoken thing still hums
a low tide pulling at my ribs
asking me to remember
what I’m trying to release
I’m right here
The holidays are supposed to sparkle. They’re wrapped in lights and music and expectations that say this should be the happiest time of the year. But for so many people, this season feels heavier instead of brighter.
Grief gets louder. Loneliness settles in. Old memories knock when you’re already tired. Mental health doesn’t take a holiday break just because the calendar says it’s time to celebrate.
If this season feels harder for you, I want you to know something simple and true: I’m here if you need me.
I’m here on the days when getting out of bed feels like an accomplishment.
I’m here when the silence is too loud or the noise is too much. I’m here when you don’t have the words, or when you have too many and don’t know where to put them.
You don’t have to explain why you’re struggling. You don’t have to compare your pain to anyone else’s. And you definitely don’t have to pretend you’re okay just to make others more comfortable.
Sometimes being “here” looks like a conversation. Sometimes it looks like sitting quietly beside someone. Sometimes it’s a text that just says, “I’m thinking of you.”
And if you’re the one reading this thinking, I wish someone would say that to me this is me saying it. You matter. Your feelings matter. Your presence in this world matters, even on days when it doesn’t feel like it.
The holidays can amplify everything we try to tuck away the rest of the year. That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.
So if you need a safe place to land, I’m here. If you need someone to listen, I’m here. If all you can do today is survive, that is more than enough and I’m still here.
You don’t have to carry this season alone. Email me, text me, call me. If you need that information, head over to my about me page 🤍
Love,
Jennifer ❤️
Absence
I miss you in the quiet moments
when the world slows
just enough
for your absence to echo
I miss your laugh
tucked between my thoughts
your voice folded into the silence
like a secret waiting to be told
the days stretch long
without your light
and even the sun
seems unsure of where to shine
but I carry your memory
like a song I hum
without meaning to
soft and familiar
aching and true
True beauty
For all my beautiful ladies here
You’re beautiful, not in the loud, borrowed ways the world often applauds, but in the kind that settles into a room and makes everything feel more honest. This beauty belongs to all of you. It lives in how you listen, fully, patiently, as if every voice matters. It’s in your laughter, unexpected and warm, like sunlight breaking through clouds you’ve learned how to carry.
Your beauty shows up in small, powerful moments: in the pauses before you speak, in the softness you protect without surrendering your strength, in the grace with which you move through ordinary days that demand more than they show. You don’t chase recognition, yet you are remarkable. Effortless. Grounded. Unmistakable.
You are beautiful in your kindness, in the way you leave people and places better than you found them. Beautiful in your flaws, too, the ones shaped by survival, growth, and truth. This is a beauty that doesn’t dim when the lights fade, because it was never created for the stage.
And maybe that’s the truest thing about your beauty: it lingers. In the lives you’ve touched. In the strength you pass on. In the quiet proof that resilience can be gentle, and power can be beautiful.
Stay beautiful, my lovely ladies. This world is much better with you ALL in it.
Jennifer ❤️🌻🌞♥️
Regret
regret is a dim
unsteady blue
the kind that pools
beneath streetlights
after rain has already
forgotten its purpose
it lingers on fingertips
a stain you notice only
when reaching for something
that used to fit your hand
not quite night
not quite dawn
just that trembling
shade between a color
that never learned
how to let go
Scattered light
we are not meant to linger
in endless sunrises
nor chase infinity
through unyielding nights
our bodies crumble
our hours slip like sand
through impatient fingers
and yet
we live forever in the laughter
we leave behind
in the stories whispered
long after we’re gone
and in the way
someone remembers
the light we scattered
into the world
Unpromised
we move through hours
that were never promised
soft tenants of a world
that keeps no names
each breath is an ember of light
slipped into our unready hands
dawn on loan, shadows rented
still we press our footsteps into dust
still we dare to lift our fragile flame
as if the dark were negotiable
as if borrowed time
were ours to spend
and if the sun won’t one day
ask for everything back
Once Aligned
they drifted across the dark
like two forgotten constellations
each carrying its own story
its own ache of light
once and only once
their orbits crossed
the stars leaned in to listen
and the sky held its breath
for a moment
their light touched
a map redrawn
a myth undone and made again
then time shifted
as it always does
and the distance between them
filled with silence and memory
and still
on certain nights
they search the horizon
for a shimmer
that feels like recognition
the faint impossible pulse
of what once aligned
and never will again
The Creative Chic 