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That Butterfly - a poem

I remember the first time I saw a butterfly fly, I just watched it in amazement. Back when the grass tickled my feet and I'd laugh for hours with pure abandonment. Back then it seemed like the world stood still, Chasing the sunset until it'd disappear. Crying came easy, laughing was loud, Feelings ran free, no fear in the crowd. Screaming so loud at a New Kids show, Not caring who heard, not caring who'd know. Then somebody laughing at the t-shirt I scored, So I ripped it and hid it at the back of my drawer. Splashing in puddles, excitement impossible to contain, Papa's old ugly truck, sparkled in the rain. The cold winter air on a rosy cheek, Every small moment, gone in a blink. Somewhere we learned to cover the pain, To bury our joy, to silence the rain. The magic grew dim, the colors all bled, We traded our wonder for worry instead. Where did you go, the child in me? Running wild, living carefree. No shame to cry, no fear to sing, When life w...
Recent posts

You’re Not Worth It - A Poem

My blood is boiling, I can't catch my breath.  I see red, I want to choke you to death.  Fire is falling from my eyes, rolling down my cheeks.  I hate to cry but don’t be fooled,  These tears don’t mean I’m weak.  Everyone warned me that you’re no good,  I hate it took so long to realize.  Yeah, I hear you say you’re sorry, I know you’re sorry, now apologize.  I want to hurt you, Like you’ve hurt me.  But nothing I say seems to cut you too deep.  You got me again, this time is the last.  But I’m the only one to blame.  It’s time for you to get out of my life.  You’re not even worth my rage.  - Chrissy

It’s NASCAR Weekend in Darlington, SC — A Town Falling Apart at the Seams

Race weekend brings tens of thousands of fans to Darlington, SC — but when the engines go quiet, the town is left with broken infrastructure, poverty and leadership that can’t get out of its own way. Turn 4 at Darlington Race Track. Photo taken by author.

The Deafening Sound of Silence

When the Dust Settles and It’s Just You – Reconnecting with Your Dreams The house is quiet. Too quiet. The sound of my own steps bounces off walls that used to hum with laughter, arguments, and homework chaos. For years, my whole identity was wrapped up in one word: Mom. Now, without a child at my side, I barely recognized myself. I’d spent nearly two decades pouring every ounce of love, energy, and purpose into raising him. My own dreams, the little sparks of ambition I once carried, had been tucked away, safely stored like forgotten treasures in the attic. In that deafening silence, I realized that the person I had spent so long caring for wasn’t the one who needed me most anymore. It was me.