Author: Simona A. Brinson
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Quiet Gravity I loved youlike the moonloves the night sky—not loudly,but constantly,by remaining.I suppose that is whygoodbye never learnedhow to leave my mouth.Even eight years on,I am still holding on,knuckles white with memory.I carry the painas if it were proof—a quiet gravitypulling me backwardthrough ordinary days.Grief does not fade;it rearranges the light.Some morningsI wake in…
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My monster is not under my bedShe drapes my waking hours in shameShe resides in my head She plays her careful games unsaidAnd trains my breath to speak her nameMy monster is not under my bed Night turns on night where fears are fedEach thought repeats, each loss the sameShe resides in my head She…
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By the final hours of 2025, the year feels less like a checklist and more like a conversation I didn’t quite finish. The resolutions I once announced with confidence now sit quietly in the corners of my mind—unmet goals, half-built habits, dreams postponed rather than abandoned. I didn’t become the version of myself I imagined…
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Photo by Federico Respini on Unsplash
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Photo by Mikkel Jönck Schmidt on Unsplash
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~by Emily Dickinson~ If I can stop one heart from breaking,I shall not live in vain;If I can ease one life the aching,Or cool one pain,Or help one fainting robinUnto his nest again,I shall not live in vain.
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The fourth-grade classroom at Avalon Elementary smelled faintly of pencil shavings and floor wax. Construction paper wreaths were crookedly taped to the walls, their glitter shedding onto the linoleum whenever someone brushed past. Outside, Naples winter meant open windows and salt in the air, not cold, but December still arrived with a kind of expectation.…
My Life In Word 