I learned early that softness
was a liability
in a place where walls listened
and windows rattled with anger
you grew armor the way
other kids grew dreams
hope stayed hidden
folded small and tucked behind the ribs
growing up rugged
teaches you strange math
how love can subtract itself
how silence can weigh
more than shouting
you learn to read moods like the weather
to predict storms
from the way a door closes
childhood felt like a rumor
something bright you only saw
through passing windows
you learned how to keep breathing
in rooms that forgot to love you
and yet nothing forged
in fire comes out hollow
you carry a quiet authority
earned by endurance
your scars are proof you stayed alive
in a place that tried to make you vanish
you are not broken
you are carved by fire
heart still beating
skin still marked
and quietly
endlessly choosing hope
Tag Archives: love
Leave me now
leave me now
before the light learns our names
before the walls memorize your breath
go while goodbye is still a door
and not a wound
while silence can pass for mercy
leave me now
while your absence is still honest
before it sharpens into regret
I can survive the clean cut of an ending
but not the slow ache of almost
don’t stay long enough
to turn memory cruel
or teach my hands to reach
for what won’t return
leave me now
not because I am empty
but because I am full of what we were
and there is no room left
for you to fade gently
Her eyes
her dark eyes carry the weight
of stories never told aloud
they are deep wells of knowing
reflecting both the tenderness
she gives freely
and the ache she keeps hidden
they hold the hush
of midnight rooms
and the echo of emotions
that learned to survive
without language
in them lives a patience
shaped by longing
a softness that’s guarded
by storms already weathered
her eyes do not ask
to be understood
they ask to be felt
and once they are they linger
long after the moment has passed
Becoming
I would write you
a thousand lifetimes more
even if my hands splintered
from the weight
even if the stars forgot my name
I would give my breath to the page
every shadow every prayer
if it meant feeling you
stir once more beneath my skin
wild
sacred
inevitable
I would give it all
to keep feeling you
the way thirst knows rain
the way flame knows air
tender and relentless
as if there were no end
to what we are becoming
When I’m gone
when I’m gone
I won’t leave emptiness
I’ll leave a quiet shift
the room will still breathe
just differently
you’ll feel me in pauses
in the way light hesitates on the wall
in the thought
you almost finish aloud
you’ll reach for words
and find my absence already there
settled in the pauses
teaching you how to listen differently
I won’t be lost
I’ll be threaded through the ordinary
in the way light lingers
in the breath you take
before letting go
in every moment
that asks you to slow down
and feel what’s still here
I won’t be missing
I’ll be everywhere
you learned to look twice
Come to me (Audio)
Come to me
not as you are expected to be
but as you are
when no one is watching
come with your tired thoughts
your half-healed memories
the quiet ache
you never found words for
I am not asking for perfection
I am asking for truth
come to me
like the evening
comes to the sky
slow inevitable gentle
like waves
returning to the shore
even after they’ve been broken
come when the world
feels too loud
when your name feels heavy
in your own mouth
I will not rush you
I will sit with you in the pause
and call that enough
come to me
and rest
because even the strongest hearts
deserve somewhere safe to land
Saturday reminder
Just a little reminder, in case you need it today: you matter.
Your presence, your voice, your way of moving through the world, it all counts more than you probably realize. You are valued not for how much you produce, or how perfectly you show up, but simply because you exist. Because you care. Because you try. Because you’re here.
If you’re feeling unseen, overwhelmed, or quietly holding more than you let on, know this: you are loved in ways you may never fully measure. Sometimes love looks loud and obvious. Sometimes it’s quiet, someone thinking of you, rooting for you, hoping you’re okay.
So take this as permission to breathe a little deeper today. To be softer with yourself. To remember that you don’t have to earn belonging, you already have it.
I’m glad you’re here. Truly. ❤️
💋 Jennifer 🌻
Revelation
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
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
The Creative Chic 