Spiraling. Swirls are pretty.... at least.🤷‍♀️ Photo: Shivansh Sharma on Unsplash (thank you 🥰)

Lies We Know Truth - a poem by Ana Clark December 2025 Don’t say. We don’t. Say. Mouth and eyes- no way. Yet, knowing— they. No yay. Not yesterday. NOT today. Like that inside joke. Joke? Okay. No way.

My grandmother did crosswords, watched The Young and the Restless, and tended to that garden that I was too young to realize was remarkable. She was young—I could feel it—but aged by circumstance. She

The Empty Space People say it’s just a pet. I hate that. She wasn’t just a pet. She was part of my life, part of my routine, part of my mornings and nights. She was there in ways no one else was. And now

Growing up is learning to love our parents. Right? But what when you figure out that your parents aren't actually nice. And you have to spend years LEARNING to BE nice. To be empathetic and kind. What

A poem inspired by Delirium from the Netflix series (and book) called Sandman. I saw the sky in pieces sharp and torn It tasted like sugar, but it stung like scorn The ground was laughing it swallowed

When Pain Blocks My Words I'm trying. But.. It’s difficult to write while trapped in pain. Words feel crippled, as if something inside me is splintered and bent. Every attempt to move forward is strained,

I didn’t understand Delirium from the Sandman series. Didn’t know why I loved her so much. Googled. Still didn’t understand her. Google basically confirmed that no one understood her. I found the dictionary

Movement Is a Vital We tend to underestimate how much th body relies on movement and how it supports not just physical health but mental clarity, emotional balance, and long-term energy. When people say

poisonous mixture half of me wants to scream the other half already did, but in lowercase, into a pillow, in a locked bathroom, in 2019 maybe? this isn’t about one thing it’s about everything i swallowed

I'm looking for great blogs to follow. Many of the ones that I currently follow (from years ago) are either MIA or quietly voting; no posts. I've found a few great creators these past few days, but I want

A very young girl, about seven years old, lies asleep. Though her body rests, her mind is wide awake in a shadowy realm. This feels different—the dreams before didn’t feel like this. She can’t find herself.

Oh my gosh—Canada is melting! We’re deep in a heatwave, and to top it off, I’ve got medical issues that make long exposure to direct sun a no-go. Thankfully, I’ve got a fitness bike. “Look, Ma, no handlebars!”

And so it has begun. Today, I began my journey to improving my health. I only got about 9k steps in (7k in the app because I didn't carry my mobile around all day). It is very hot and humid in Canada today,

There’s a version of you that lives in the quiet. It doesn’t speak often. It doesn't need to. It waits. Observes. It’s the part of you that carries every insult you've swallowed, every moment you felt

These pains of aging are heavy on the stomach. A couple of years ago I started eating healthy and became a gym rat. Unfortunately, I eventually came to terms that I couldn't afford the membership - especially

You are not a rehab center. You are not a therapist, a savior, or an emotional sponge. You are a person with needs, limits, and a soul that deserves to feel safe. When someone you love uses their suffering

The Bi-Polar Mirror The Mirror Doesn’t Lie, But It Doesn’t Tell the Whole Truth Either There’s a moment almost every morning—right after I throw on something I half-decided to wear last night, and just

I’m petrified and paralyzed with confusion and caution. I need a to push a pause button or superpower a time freeze. But things don’t simply stop because a universal dust speck like myself yearns it to.

I feel like I’ve abandoned a part of myself with having not posted on PoB for a while. Kingston Ontario is finally getting out of lockdown. Businesses are finally being allowed to open. While many shut