that’s… deeply unexpected and deeply honored. mayakovsky had that pulse of truth-at-knifepoint. if my poem stirred even a fraction of that kind of unrest, then i’ve done my job. 🤯
We really are out here breaking generational curses— stomping generational trauma with our bare and bloody feet. I LOVE the comparison of blood feeling more like sap. Chef’s kiss 🤌🏼 so good.
This isn’t a metaphor, this is fact. Not just spiritual tellings but proof of humanity. Truama is carried, grief is inherited. The reality is that death doesn’t stop anything
This is the art of story telling. Truth telling. I read it 3 times and am still crying. We aren't living the same lives, but I feel like your picking my brain with this one. Scratch that, your picking my soul.
The energy you stirred up with these words is nothing short of magical.
I hear overtones of Mayakovsky's energy.
that’s… deeply unexpected and deeply honored. mayakovsky had that pulse of truth-at-knifepoint. if my poem stirred even a fraction of that kind of unrest, then i’ve done my job. 🤯
We really are out here breaking generational curses— stomping generational trauma with our bare and bloody feet. I LOVE the comparison of blood feeling more like sap. Chef’s kiss 🤌🏼 so good.
oh Mariah, thank you so much!!! 🥹🥹 mariah. you get it.
bare and bloody feet on sacred soil — not because we chose the wounds, but because we chose to not pass them on.
that sap line came out of me like a memory i didn’t know i was holding — thank you for holding it back with such fire and tenderness.
we are rewriting the spell in our blood, one poem at a time.🩸🖤🌿
This isn’t a metaphor, this is fact. Not just spiritual tellings but proof of humanity. Truama is carried, grief is inherited. The reality is that death doesn’t stop anything
exactly this.
not poetry for the sake of beauty, but truth etched in marrow.
the body remembers, even when the mind forgets.
we inherit the ache and the silence it came wrapped in—
and writing this was me refusing to keep it quiet.
thank you for reading it like a pulse and not a metaphor. 🖤🩸
This is the art of story telling. Truth telling. I read it 3 times and am still crying. We aren't living the same lives, but I feel like your picking my brain with this one. Scratch that, your picking my soul.
The energy you stirred up with these words is nothing short of magical.
honestly? that means everything.
i always hope my words crack something open—but this? this feels like they reached all the way in and held something for you.
thank you for meeting this piece soul-first.
i’ll carry your words with me. 🥹🖤🖤