Chaos with Cait

Comparison is a thief that cannot enter when you guard your wonder.

I don’t know where I’m going, but the wind still calls my name.

She is not just earth, she is holy ground. A living prayer beneath our feet. We were meant to be earth’s stewards, not her thieves, but...

My body is an hourglass; each heartbeat a grain of sand.

I am a shadow wearing a name that no longer fits. I drift through the days like a ghost searching for her skin, touching mirrors that...

I rise, not because I want to, but because something inside me whispers: try again. The sheets still smell like sorrow, my bones still carry yesterday, But I peel my body from the bed like bark from a broken tree. My mind says hide, my chest says fight, my legs tremble with the ache of choosing life one more time. I drink water like it’s salvation. I step into daylight half-afraid, half-hopeful, all becoming. There is no glory in this. Only grit. Only breath. Only the quiet d

I locked the door and called it healing. I named the silence safe.

My touch lingers like honey on the tongue, a sweetness that burns long after it’s gone.

Soft does not mean breakable, It means I chose not to shatter you.

Ew. Your face, it sickens me. I can’t unsee the lie you wore so well. I’ll never look at you the same. Not now. Not after the truth...

Dream a little dream. Hum the tune of a song. Feel what you need to feel, that is what we are here for.

Some will not understand. But, that is proof you are speaking a rare language.

She sees him standing across the room shoulders broad, carrying more than just muscle. The world says men don’t break, but she see’s the...

I outgrew the cages you built. Now, watch me make the sky mine.

They called it necessary. Life-saving, they said I was lucky. I was reminded of how I should be grateful for the chance to live. But the doctors didn’t tell me what else would die in the operating room. They failed to mention, how they’d take the illness and with it, my womb, my chance, my womanhood as I knew it. They didn’t warn me about the silence that follows this type of procedure. The kind of silence that settles in your bones when your body is no longer home, just aft

I bloom slow on purpose, every petal, deliberate.

There is a cage inside me, bars built from expectation, from silence, from the heavy hands of those who told me how small I was allowed...

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...

Yesterday’s dreams don't fit today’s bones, but I carry their echo.

Storms split ancient trees, yet their roots hum underground; strength survives unseen.