Category: poetry
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What the Walls Remember
Some houses hold the kind of quiet that never leaves. This one’s for anyone who grew up learning to read that quiet. It’s not about forgiveness. It’s about what stays after the noise is gone.
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On Your Sixth Birthday
Six years ago, I met the little lion who made me a mother. In this tribute to my firstborn, I reflect on the ache, the awe, and the hilarious meltdowns that shaped our journey, because raising Grayson has been equal parts joy, chaos, and love deeper than I ever imagined…
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B-52 Bar and Lounge
Bob made a choice he couldn’t take back, and the people who love him are left to question why. It’s not about closure. It’s about what’s left behind.
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Where the Light Lands
This Father’s Day, I wrote a poem. It’s called “Where the Light Lands,” for the man who holds our home together in quiet ways. It’s about love that shows up without asking for applause. For him, and for fathers who carry more than they ever say out loud.
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Built For The Storm
Motherhood is part circus, part sacred ritual. You get roared at by a tiny CEO in Spider-Man socks, then tackled by joy in a diaper. No medals, just crumbs. #BuiltForTheStorm #MomMode #LionCubChronicles
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The Silenced
Through the fire and chaos, I see you engulfed in the flames. Wearing the weight of the world on your shoulders. I hate to see crying Natives to these lands No one can see, nor hear your cries. Fists slammed against glass, nowhere to hide. We all look in on…
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Silent Blooms
Day after day I pray for good news. A sign of life’s presence past the toxicity brewing in here. One foot in front of the next, She postures– Feathers smoothed as the sun peeked through. Moving toward the Magnolia tree, Branches stretched, With late blooms reaching their peak. I’ve sat…
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Box for Two
Her head slid down the side of the glass The coolness of nature firmly pressed into the back of her neck She lay perplexed. Her face pained, Afraid to release the sounds that caused this tremor. She gazed out the window, Watched the cars whizzing down the freshly paved street.…
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Fish-eyed lens
She rose on the right side this morning Told herself it would be a masterful day. She wiped the sleep from her eyes Tuned down the toxic noise that tried to slink under her skin. One look in the mirror and the cracks reappeared. The tape beveled and the trolls…
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The chemist
I can feel it happening The breaths becoming fewer and farther in between I am leaving, This opioid dream is not for me. I want to feel every sharp, Painfully twisted turn Experience every organ vibrate off my chest As my heart slips into the abyss for a second To…
Nicole Johnson 