Blog
A Muse’s Guide to Being Loved
To be a muse is to exist in the spaces between—between presence and absence, between mystery and memory. It is not enough to be admired; one must be remembered, imprinted on the mind like a melody that lingers long after the song has ended. A muse is a whisper in the dark, a half-finished thought, a name caught between breath and confession.
This guide is not for the faint of heart, nor for those who wish to be easily understood. It is for the ones who long to be felt—in ink-stained notebooks, in late-night recollections, in the spaces lovers leave behind. If you wish to be loved in the way poets love—fiercely, feverishly, and forever—step carefully. For once you are written into someone’s story, you may never truly leave.
Roasts, Anti-Roasts, and Self-Roasts: Building Fires in the Chaos of Cluster B
In the chaotic world of Cluster B personalities—Antisocial, Borderline, Histrionic, and Narcissistic—humor isn’t just a defense mechanism; it’s an art form. Whether it’s roasting, anti-roasting, or self-roasting, these personalities wield humor as a tool to mask emotional intensity, build connections, and even confront their deepest vulnerabilities. In this satirical exploration, we’ll dive into the nuances of humor within the Cluster B world, featuring the infamous roast of Cissy Stag by Grace Marie. Get ready for an unforgettable journey where self-expression burns as brightly as the flames of a campfire in the dark forest of emotional chaos.
Exploring “DeKalb County”: What Ifs, Roads Not Taken, and the Stories We Choose
In my poem DeKalb County, I imagine a life that could have been—a life shaped by steadiness instead of chaos, by calm instead of fire. It’s a reflection on the allure of a blue house in the suburbs, where Decatur’s heat hums through the air and the Atlanta skyline rises like a kingdom in the distance. The poem wrestles with the tension between yearning for ease and embracing the jagged edges of a life lived fully—scars, struggles, and all.
Writing this piece, I couldn’t help but think of the road not taken, that timeless idea Robert Frost captured so well. But where Frost found resolution in his choice, DeKalb County dwells in the ambiguity of “what ifs.” Would a quieter life have been better, easier? Perhaps. But would it have been mine? Would I have traded the fire that refined me for a simpler existence in a blue house, far from the storms I’ve weathered?
The poem ultimately celebrates the beauty of the jagged path, the chaos that blooms into truth and art. Atlanta, for all its heat and unpredictability, became my sanctuary—a place I claimed for myself, even as I grappled with the reality of walking its streets alone. It wasn’t the life I pictured, but it’s the life that made me.
The Duality of Flowers: Pain and Promise
In She Sent Me Flowers Today, flowers symbolize both the weight of pain and the glimmer of healing. Ivy’s invasive tendrils represent unwelcome struggles, while roses and hydrangeas bloom as defiant reminders of resilience and joy. This exploration of duality reflects the complexities of healing and human emotion