Chaos with Cait

They told me to shrink, so I became wildfire instead.

I have learned that fear and growth speak in the same voice at first. And only after surviving them did I understand how they choose to follow one another, how they love to coexist with each other two separate messengers, both ready to offer me different things.

Little one, you were never given fair odds. The deck was stacked with empty bottles, missing footsteps, and a body that broke before it bloomed. But hear me, you are not the weight of what went wrong, you are the proof that life can grow in impossible soil. Yes, your mother’s absence left a hunger that still lingers. Yes, your father’s silence taught you that you should mirror him. And yes, your body has carried you to battles that you never asked to fight. But still, you kep

The night keeps secrets for me, tucks them into the folds of the stars and hums lullabies to me. The darkness gathers the frayed edges of my thoughts and smooths them with cool and patient hands. In the hush of the darkness, I can finally breathe deep, and unafraid. The night wraps itself around me like a familiar blanket, soft with understanding, yet heavy with everything I’ve dared not speak. And without question, the darkness listens for me returning each evening as promis

Faith is stepping into the fog, and trusting the ground to rise beneath you. Are you willing?

I am half dream, and half dandelion belonging wherever the wind believes. And wherever my soul should wish.

We are borrowers of sunrise and moonlight, returning them slowly one day at a time. You must try not to forget that tomorrow is never promised And the now is all that we have.

I asked the ocean how she survives the pull of the moon. And she said, “I just let myself be moved.” “Doesn’t it hurt?” I asked her. “Sometimes,” she admitted, “but pain that teaches you to expand isn’t the same as pain that closes you.” She splashed a wave onto the shore like a sigh. “I grow each time I rise. I rest each time I fall.” Then she quietly crept toward my feet on the sand and said, “You, too, are allowed to move this steadily through your own tides.”

Comparison is a thief that cannot enter when you guard your wonder. The thief may claw at the gates, but they do not open. until it leaves in silence, defeated unseen and unheard.

I don’t know where I’m going, but the wind still calls my name. And I choose to follow her freely.

My body is an hourglass each heartbeat a grain of sand. Every moment a capsule of time, a whisper of wind in a waiting glass.

I was not made for metal skies and clocks that scream time into my veins. I was born of dew and dawns light, a creature of wing and whisper. And yet, here I am stumbling across concrete that does not bloom beneath my feet. The world does not believe in me anymore. They trade wonder for Wi-Fi, magic for money, starlight for screens. And still, my aura hums electric, still my hands trail sparks when I touch what others call ordinary. It is lonely, to be a fairy in a world that

The greatest show of gratitude is to live today as though the gift might vanish by dusk.

Fear said stop. I whispered no, then I shouted it.

Do not confuse my fire for something you can hold; I was never meant to burn politely.

I dream in colors that do not exist, naming each shade after the way you once said my name.

A sunbeam brushes my shoulder, suddenly I am golden, suddenly the world feels like it wants me here.

Each sunrise whispers, “Try again, but wilder this time.”

The world calls it delusion and yet, I like to call it devotion; to the impossible, to the maybe, to the yet to be.

Uncertainty seduces me, its mouth tastes like lightning.