Chaos with Cait

I have found life to be a thrill, even with all of the ups and downs. Through my journey I have found how much strength I carry. There is not a thing that I would change in this life that I was given, because every moment has had a purpose, and I am stronger and more grateful because of it.

I liked him because he was weird and mysterious, like me. But with time, I think that I started to hate him for that very same reason.

Love yourself a bit more today, you deserve it.

Magic falls from her smile, when she hasn’t seen you in a while.

I rise, not to prove you wrong, just to remember that I was always right.

Some mornings, the sun looks at me like it remembers the day I first decided to stay. Back then, she hovered outside unsure if I would open the door. Now her light waits on my face, bright and warm brushing against the scars I carry, like a soft supporter who never stopped believing in me.

They said my grief was ruin, but they didn’t know that I was descended from the kind of women who turned heartbreak into constellations. I walked through loss like a lone figure crossing a desert of broken time, each tear falling and hardening into glass crystals the Gods would later use to read the future. They mistook my silence for shattering, not knowing that I had entered the underworld to retrieve the parts of myself I once left behind. Every wound of mine became a doo

I honor the way that I am built, wild edges and all. Weird, chaotic, clumsy, creative. There is no other shape like mine

I have fallen in love with the sound of my own breathing. My pulse is something, I do not take for granted.

My laughter is a spell, whispered into the fabric of the world. A soft incantation bending the spine of time, letting hours dissolve into sudden eternity, as moonlight gathers in the palms of my hands and ordinary moments bloom into constellations.

The moon speaks to me, she walks with me, she heals me. In all of the moon’s phases she is still so worthy. Even when only a sliver remains, she never doubts her place in the sky. She whispers that same truth to me, reminding me that even in my broken hours, I still shine.

The tide pulls, and I follow. A willing exile from the shores edge.

In a world so magical, so full of endless miracles I wonder how we became this. When was the day we traded green forests for grey horizons, clean rivers for plastic veins, fresh air for lungs full of smoke? I ask the universe.. Who gave us permission? Who told us the trees were ours to cut, the ocean ours to poison, the mountains ours to hollow out for another dollar? We act as though we own the Earth, yet our names are written here only for a moment. Mortality is inevitable,

I rebuild myself gently no rush, just truth.

I pack disappointment the way other people pack lip balm. A displeasure of self sits in my purse, like a special seasoning that I must sprinkle onto every meal. I find myself to be difficult, always ready for war. Except, the funny thing is, there is always only one person on the battlefield, me. I rip myself to shreds, like I used to tell the teachers my dog did to my homework. I am exhausting, two million thoughts a minute, and I must acknowledge all of them.

I didn’t know how brave I was, until I chose to stay for another breath. And then, another, and another.

I grew up dreaming of stability. Not wealth. Not success. Just a floor that stayed beneath my feet. For as long as I remember, every house I lived in felt haunted. Not by ghosts, but by addiction, neglect, rage that traveled through walls, and adults who carried storms inside of them. I was a child, learning to read for danger before I learned safety. I listened for footsteps. Measured voices. Studied slammed doors. Home was never a place. It was a question. Would the lights

Some days, survival for me is making the choice to drink water, to breathe deeply and simply do my best to just stay.

For years, I believed the darkness knew my name, trailing behind me like a silent wolf through moonlit woods and restless nights. More than once, I wandered too close to its waiting jaws, feeling its shadows curl around my ankles like roots beneath an ancient forest. I spent countless seasons at war, sword drawn against ghosts only I could see, pleading with the stars above for a dawn that wouldn’t fade. Then one morning, as the sky blushed gold, a quiet truth arrived with th

I spent years starving myself of the love I hungered for the most. I learned to live with the ache of longing, carrying it like a wound I refused to let heal. I poured every ounce of tenderness into loving you believing that if I gave enough, I would finally feel whole. But the love I was searching for, was never yours to give, it was my own. Yet I spent years laying it at your feet, sacrificing myself piece by piece in the name of you.