This is a transition—

Amidst barrages, perdition, and murky forces.

The darkness comes before light

As -a -metamorphosis.


I climbed from the confines

of a silken Hell.

A prison of fiction

where insecurity dwells.

Slicing through the layers.

A sacred portal.

Ashes to ashes—

ascending immortal.

I've gained passage

the dark mistress of weaves.

Liturgy IQ, shy

of a hundred seventy.

Drifting on a stave -designed

by Hawthorne

Feather, bead-baffled spells

of perplexing nomenclature.

My ways may be wicked

-use me as a favor.


Suddenly EVERYONE’S savior!

Always needed,

until- I’m not!

Don't put ”baby in a corner.”

and” drop me like I'm hot.”

I hide in shades as a great observer.

The master, the student

and an even faster learner.

Stringing words concurrently,

hook, line, and verse.

Just for fun-

poetry won’t accrue

interest in the purse. case it's forgotten.

Here’s the deal.

I embrace my weirdness

“see dead people “

—for real.

If I rise- I'm a hero.

Fail- then cast to zero

Render me useless

I am stagnant and limbo.


I'll Idle alone





To beautiful



to be left


I'll carry my dreams

with magical purpose

Tired of dead weight

useless and worthless.

This wickedness-my lover

and NEVER content.

All hail the queen