The day she snapped is a day she’ll never get back.
It should be a memory embedded in the past, locked in a memory bank, and the key thrown somewhere in the back.
Her journey isn’t anybody else’s; just as no one’s life is hers.
The world is entirely oblivious to what she carries in her heart’s purse.
Love, Anger, and Fear are like the three musketeers.
The only thing that ties them together is their ability to leave you in tears. These emotions only heighten the deeper you push them into your mind’s rear, Leaving you alone to deal with life’s daily waking racketeers.
Have you ever seen a teapot boiling over?
That’s because the contents are overflowing,
And if not tended to on time, that beautiful, unique vessel is likely to implode.
At twenty-six, she thought she had it all figured out—
A mother with dreams but filled with doubt.
The fire inside her burned so bright, so fierce, so wild,
That she couldn’t see how it was hurting her own child.
Rage became her second language, hate her closest friend,
She spoke in shouts and slammed doors, thinking this would never end. The anger felt like armor, protecting her from pain,
But armor can become a prison when you’re caught in fury’s rain.
Then came the night when words cut deeper than a blade,
When her volcanic temper erupted, the damage couldn’t fade.
Someone she loved walked out that door,
And suddenly she realized what all that fire was for.
Not protection, not strength, not standing her ground—
But fear dressed up in fury, making a terrible sound.
Fear of not being enough, fear of falling apart,
Fear that had poisoned the wellspring of her heart.
Now she looks in the mirror and barely knows the face,
The woman staring back has lost so much grace.
Her child’s eyes hold questions she doesn’t know how to answer,
While her own soul fights an internal cancer.
She fears herself more than any enemy could be,
Fears the phoenix fire burning inside, wild and free.
But phoenix fire can destroy, or phoenix fire can heal— The choice is hers to make, the choice is hers to feel.
So she sits in the stillness, learning how to breathe,
Learning that to save her family, she must first believe. That the fire within her doesn’t have to consume,
That love can bloom again even after such gloom.
Cooling down doesn’t mean growing cold,
It means learning wisdom that can’t be sold.
She’s writing new chapters with trembling hands,
Rebuilding her life on steadier lands.
The woman in the mirror is changing day by day,
She chooses healing over letting anger have its way. For her child needs a mother, not a storm to weather, And sometimes breaking apart means putting yourself back together.
The key she threw away. She’s forging it anew,
Not to unlock the past, but to open something true— A future where her fire lights the way ahead,
Instead of burning bridges and filling hearts with dread.
Twenty-six and learning that it’s never too late
To transform your anger, to redirect your fate.
The phoenix doesn’t rise despite the flames,
She rises because of them—and that changes everything.
Her journey isn’t anybody else’s; just as no one’s life is hers, But now she carries hope in her heart’s purse.