My hair was always dark—
A quiet oath to who I’d been.
It clung to me like truth,
Framing features I had learned to love.
Even as a girl, I wandered shades—
But the dark always called me home.
Strangers knew me by its wave,
Its certainty, its ease.
It was mine.
And it was enough.
Until you.

You liked bright.
You liked wild.
You liked her—
The red that lit your eyes.
So I told myself,
Maybe if I bled the dark away,
You’d see me with that same fire.

So I sat beneath the light and bowl,
Watched bleach strip years from my strands,
Watched red bleed into who I was,
Not because I loved it,
But because you might love me.

You said you liked it.
So I added more.
Layered hope on top of damage,
Waiting for your heart to catch.

And it did.
You liked me—or at least the version
I burned myself to become.
But now, in the quiet of my mirror,
I meet a stranger with copper strands,
Not the girl who knew her worth,
But one who traded it away
For something small
And fleeting.

I miss the girl who never asked
If she was enough.
I miss the dark.
I miss the strength.
I miss the truth
That once lived in my reflection.

And now I know—
Love that demands you change
Will never hold the parts
You buried to be chosen.

I should’ve never gone red.
Not for you.
Not for anyone.
Not at the cost of me.

No one cares what you've been
through,                                                         ­ 
                                                               ­                                                         
all the details, of what they did to
you                                                              ­                
                                                ­                                                                 ­         
  I have been there & all I have to
say,                                                             ­       
                                                                ­                                                      
  is  you need to heal, find your own
way                                                              ­                      
                                          ­                                                                 ­         
How long will you stay in your
past?                                                            ­                  
                                              ­                                                                 ­     
How long do you want the pain to
last?                                                            ­  
                                                              ­                                                
Holding up your angry walls is hard to
do,                                                            
                                                                ­                                              
you're wasting energy that could heal
you                                                    
         ­                                                                 ­                                    
What you put out, comes back times
three,                                                           ­           
                                                     ­                                                                
 can you live with all the
  negativity?                                                   ­         
                                                       ­                                                               
If you can't forgive than try to
forget,                                                        
 ­                                                                 ­                                      
everyone in life has pain and
regrets                                                          ­        
                                                        ­                                                          
You can't take back what happened
yesterday                                                        ­    
                                                            ­                                                      
but you can begin again and change today

Someone used to say
That spring begins and ends
Like a transient midday breeze

When the colour of the tulip fades
To an old pale yellow
You, grown out of your sorrow
Will stand ahead of the horizon
Ready to live, ready to breathe

Slowly,
I passed by the treeline.
The weeds growing over the path,
The bricks weathered & chipped.
The breeze was chap.

Silently,
I walked down the path.
The reeds by the pond shooting up,
The shoreline lapping & beckoning.
The bees buzzed, the birds chirped.

Compassion walked beside,
Curiosity wandered nearby.

The branches drooped low,
The forests creaked with life.
Further along, a river flowed.
Delicate in its trace upon the landscape,
Yet sharp as a knife.

Lilypads adorn with lotus
Floated idly atop the pond surface.
Frog leaped, dragonfly darted by;
The fish jumped up from the water
And rested at my feet on the shore.

"Let's help this fellow out!"
"How peculiar! Out or back in?"

Slowly, silently;
Delicate in its trace upon the landscape.
Nearby, beside;
The bees buzzed, the birds chirped.
Passed by the treeline;
The breeze was chap, yet sharp as a knife.
Down the path;
The branches drooped, the forests creaked.
Darted, leaped;
The shoreline lapping & beckoning.
Wandered, walked;
The bricks weathered & chipped.
Darted, leaped;
Rested at my feet, the shore.
Walked, wandered;
Floated idly atop the pond surface.

Further along, a river flowed.

We all have something
urgent to do.
Tell the man that
works at the butcher's
shop.
Tell the boy who delivers
your newspaper.
Tell the groundhog before
he sees his shadow.
Dig up Poe and Ginsberg,
and tell them.

Tell the street
musician playing
for tips.
Tell the ****** and the
virgins.
Tell the next fish that
you catch.
Tell the banker and the
candlestick maker.
Tell the cats, and dogs, and
wombats.
Tell the starving
artists and poets.
Tell your wife, mistress, and
the old lady next door.

Tell the cloned sheep and
the deep part of the ocean.
Tell the magician and
carnival worker.
Tell the drunk, though he may
forget.
Tell the farmer and his cattle.
Tell the spider, and if it refuses
to listen, tell all the flies caught in
the web.
Tell the psychic, though, they
should know.
Tell everyone and everything
that Artificial
Intelligence wants to be the
21st-century god.

But, whatever you do, don't tell
that smiling machine that does it
all for you.  It will blink its cold
eye holes and wish you well,
then slice your throat while
you sleep.

Can my vanity turn me into a tulip I wonder?
Have I misunderstood a fable as a fact
A myth as an aspiration.
I beg to be released from flesh and thoughts, into petals I ask.
No. There are no myths nor magic so
Enough! I turn to science and
Demand to be reformed
And if fantasy won’t let me, perhaps science will and
No more bruised and bended knees but
Did I not ask well enough?
Why can I not pass through winter as rot
Indifferent to time?
Then spend some days as beauty in
Heat, in
Earth, please.
Remember not my voice, not my face, not my body, not my self.
End me wholly each year but let me.
Doom me solely each year but let me.

Falling, like autumn leaves,
Drifting through the air,
Guided by the wind,
In shades of red and yellow fair.
But as they touch the ground,
Their colors start to fade,
Turning brown and battered,
Before they pass away.
Beaten, tattered, and torn,
All hopes of happiness forlorn.

A New World I See
I see a world not built on chains,
But minds that question, break the reins.
Where hearts are free to roam and soar,
Not bound by rules, but longing more.

The world we know is cracked and scarred,
Where truth is bent and dreams are barred.
The wolves above, they feast and lead,
While beneath, the sheep must bleed.

Yet I see a world where minds can thrive,
Where freedom's spark keeps us alive.
Not chaos born from hearts that burn,
But love and truth we’ll fight to learn.

Still, there’s a darkness in our veins,
A hunger deep, a thirst for gains.
For power, control, the will to rise—
We mask it well, but still disguise.

Two worlds we face, both dark and light,
One bound by fear, one free of fight.
The wolves will lead, the sheep will fall,
But will we rise above it all?

A world of power, a world of pride,
A world where we don’t need to hide.
A choice to rise, to build, to free,
To claim the world that’s meant to be.

But the cost is high, the price we pay,
For those who twist, for those who sway.
They'll take our truth, they'll take our soul,
And use our freedom to control.

Still, I see a world where love’s the key,
Where minds are sharp and hearts are free.
We hold our fate, we choose our way,
And with each step, we light the day.

We’ll walk the line between the wolf,
And in our hands, the power to pull.
From darkness into light we rise,
With truth and love as our disguise.

We are not beasts, we are the ones,
The chosen few, the many sons.
And if we fall, we rise again,
In a world reborn by love, not sin.

The answer’s ours, the choice is clear,
Will we fight or give in to fear?
I see a world where we can be,
More than wolves, more than the sea.

So I choose a world that’s born from mind,
A world where truth and love align.
A world where we can truly see—
The best of us, the best we’ll be.