Chaos with Cait

A better world is coming. A world filled with love and acceptance. Wonder and imagination will run freely. Individuality is to be praised. So bring your rain and thunder, and let us dance our way through this change.

The air grows teeth, and I am chewed by the what ifs. “What if I fail?” “What if the vision takes too long to be materialized?” “What if I never make it?” “What if they laugh at me?” “What if I am misunderstood?” And then it hit me, that maybe, the teeth were mine all along.

I speak fluent hush, and the deep of the night understands me. The moon knows exactly what I mean, even when I choose to say nothing at all.

The thaw doesn’t happen all at once, because our bodies learn warmth in whispers. A fingertip twitches, your breath deepens. And then, finally the air softens around your being.

I don’t just want connection I crave it, like oxygen that I’ve somehow learned to ration.

Reality haunts me, but my dreams keep me alive.

Self love is not a luxury, it is your birthright. A promise that you will always belong to yourself first.

There is magic in the way that I forgive myself.

In the hush of morning light my teacup steams like a potion, whispering warmth into my palms. On some days, sidewalk cracks bloom with brave little flowers, tiny guardians of forgotten magic. Even the wind that wandering storyteller tucks secrets into my hair as I pass. And when the sun slips low, turning windows into molten gold, I remember. I remember that life doesn’t need grand miracles to be extraordinary. Life only needs one thing. And that is a heart, a heart that is w

Sleep is not rest for me. Sleep is just my quieter version of drowning.

My life feels like a sketch, erased and redrawn. Time and time again. Starting over somehow always feels inevitable. But, I know that there are lines of me out there, still searching for their shape. Even if, they have been lost, for some time in the constant scribble and erase.

Hope feels too bright for these hands, but I keep reaching anyway.

Half gone, half becoming like every secret I’ve ever kept.

I have walked through silence and made peace with it. I have known stillness so long, it became my language. But today my body dances because my breath feels like song. The air moves through me as if we were dancing the tango. I am not who I was before the storm. I am quieter now, but stronger for it. I move with care, but also with wonder like someone seeing color for the first time. I have learned that survival is not the same as living. And living, oh, it is such a brave t

Surrender is not the ending we were taught to fear. Surrender is actually the soft unthreading of the fight that once kept us alive. Surrender is just the body whispering to please rest now. Surrender is grace arriving right on time. And, not with triumph but with open hands. To surrender is to remember that strength has many faces, and sometimes it can look like stillness. Surrender is choosing peace over proving, it is trusting that what’s meant for you does not need to be

No is a sentence. Yes, is my sanctuary.

he said that my softness was weakness, but I bend like silk and I never break.

I rose, not because I was ready, but because staying down was killing me faster.

If you can, place a hand over your chest. Do you feel that? That steady beat? That is proof that you’re still here, proof that the freeze did not win. So when you’re ready and, not a moment before the thaw will come. Until then, this poem will wait with you unmoving and alive.

Wanting you felt like holding a storm inside my chest.