Poeaxtry's Prism

Spell. Stone. & Sparks that Ignite Change

Tag: mental health

  • The good die young- book spotlight.

    The good die young- book spotlight.

    Poetry that heals & reveals

    by: Shela brown.

    A good writer is one who pleases themselves.

    Every voice carries a story worth hearing. At Poeaxtry’s Poetry Prism. We shine a light on those stories. The raw, real, and resilient. Our Book Spotlights celebrate independent authors and poets who speak truth through art. Today, we’re honored to feature The Good Die Young by Shela Brown — a powerful, vulnerable collection that transforms pain into poetry and healing into art.

    The Good Die Young (TGDY) is a 91-page digital poetry collection and memoir, evoking raw, unfiltered emotion. These poems follow a young woman navigating heartbreak, identity, and the depths of mental health struggles—depression, anxiety, and PTSD.

    Through each verse, TGDY explores how innocence transforms, how pain shapes us, and how expression becomes survival. This project is more than poetry; it’s reflection, release, and rebirth. A right of passage and a pivotal part of the author’s healing journey.

    “The Good Die Young”
    KELSO volume- 2

    🛒 WHERE TO FIND THE GOOD DIE YOUNG:

    Buy on Gumroad

    Instagram: @_babysham1

    TikTok: @__babysham

    💫 WHO IT’S FOR:

    For the art lovers. For the healers. For anyone who has ever felt deeply and quietly at once.

    For those still finding themselves after the storm. This is a safe space …soft, heavy, and honest.

    The Good Die Young reminds us that art is survival, and that writing can be a home for every emotion we’ve been told to silence.

    Through The Prism, we continue to uplift voices like Shela Brown’s . The voices that turn pain into power, and vulnerability into strength.

    If her story resonates with you, share it forward. Every share helps another poet, author, artist,or creative be seen. And another story be heard.

    I created Poeaxtry’s Poetry Prism because too many voices were told they weren’t enough. Either too soft, too loud, too different, too much. And I wanted to build a space where “too much” becomes exactly right.

    Every spotlight, every poem, every project under Poeaxtry_ exists to remind creators that their stories matter. The goal isn’t fame or followers … it’s community visibility, validation, and connection.

    I do this for the ones who never saw themselves on the shelf. For the ones who were told to edit out the truth. For the ones still healing, still creating, still daring to speak.

    Because when one of us is seen, we all shine brighter.

    — Axton, Founder of Poeaxtry_

    Portfolio Links

    Discord

  • “Can You Read the Room?” A Poetic Exploration of Silence and Presence

    “Can You Read the Room?” A Poetic Exploration of Silence and Presence

    There are rooms that speak without words. Spaces where light, sound, and presence…or absence, tell stories the heart quietly knows. In “Can You Read the Room?”, this poem navigates the fragile space between life and stillness, showing how even the smallest elements, like the hum of a heater, the gaze of a pet, anchor us in a world of quiet reflection.

    Can You Read the Room?

    The lamp’s gone cold,

    its bulb a frostbitten moon.

    Light spills out wrong,

    pale and unconvincing,

    a blue hue.

    The air hums sterile,

    a clinic without purpose,

    a stillness once safe.

    Soft. Solace.

    The heater drones on,

    groaning through the night,

    spitting warm breath

    that never reaches cold hands.

    Blinds drawn tight,

    as if the outside could judge,

    or the sun might bite.

    Even the usually lit TV’s

    dark eye is closed.

    No flicker.

    No laugh. No light.

    A blanket rises…

    enough to prove life is here.

    The body beneath,

    neither dreaming

    nor sleeping.

    The dog watches quietly,

    devoted without demanding.

    The cat’s tail curls,

    a question mark still,

    but he’s stopped asking.

    A clock ticks,

    the only noise

    for nothing worth timing.

    Every second,

    a whisper saying:

    “Can you read the room?

    Can you taste the air gone flat,

    the hum of things pretending to function?”

    This is how a heart

    plays dead

    without truly dying.

    Life exists even in muted forms. The poem reminds us that presence is not always loud and that subtle signals, like the rise of a blanket, the loyal eyes of a pet, can speak louder than words. “Can You Read the Room?” challenges us to notice, to feel, and to recognize the understated pulse of being alive, even when everything else seems still.

    Poet’s Notes:

    This poem was inspired by quiet, personal observation and the way empty spaces reflect our emotional landscape. The imagery aims to balance the sterile with the intimate: a room devoid of action yet full of subtle life. I focused on sensory contrasts like cold and warmth, light and darkness, movement and stillness, to capture the tension between isolation and connection. The repetition of questions mirrors the mind’s own attempt to engage with emptiness, urging the reader to “read the room” both literally and metaphorically.

    So tell me can you read the room?

  • Four Years Without Her: Grief, Growth, and Letting Go

    Four Years Without Her: Grief, Growth, and Letting Go

    Four years

    November 8th marks four years since I lost my mom. Four years since everything I knew broke open and the world is still shifting in ways I still can’t fully name. Grief isn’t a straight road, it’s a labyrinth. It’s a mess and a maze all at the same time. Some days I walk through it calmly, breathing deep, grateful to have survived another turn. Hiking through places I knew my mother would love breathing in crisp air and I know then I can feel her there. Other days, I slam into walls made of memories, and I ache like it just happened yesterday.

    People say time heals, but it doesn’t, not even slightly. Time teaches, especially how to fake it. It also teaches how to carry the weight differently. Some mornings I can laugh, work, create, and feel almost whole. Other mornings I stare at the ceiling and think about the space she left, a space that no one else could ever fill.

    I’ve kept working through all of it. I’ve kept building my life piece by piece, even when it felt like holding everything together with shaking hands. I built this business for her, for the strength she gave me, for the words she never got to read. I’ve published my own work many times now, and I’ve even been published by others. Every success feels like a conversation I wish I could have with her. “Mom, look. I did it.”

    There are so many things she’s missed.

    The late-night laughs. The healing. The slow, quiet days when I finally felt peace again. She hasn’t seen my sisters growing up into young women… strong, funny, and fierce in ways that remind me of her. She hasn’t seen me learn to be happy again, to find joy without guilt. She hasn’t seen the forgiveness that never came from others, but still bloomed in me.

    And then there’s my dad. That’s a different kind of grief, the kind you choose. I finally cut him off, and though it hurt, it was necessary. You can’t heal in the same place you were broken. That decision came from love. A love for myself, and for the memory of the woman who taught me what love should feel like.

    There’s a hole where she was, and nothing fills it. I’ve stopped trying to. I’ve learned to build around it instead. And while I try to let light pour through it sometimes. It is hard to honor it on the dark days. Grief isn’t something you get over. It’s something you grow around.

    Four years without her feels impossible, and yet I’m still here. Still writing. Still working. Still remembering.

    Because she never left entirely. She just changed forms. She’s in every poem, every stone I pick up, and every person I help heal through my work.

    Grief changes shape, but it never disappears. It becomes part of your story. And if you let it, it can become the fire that keeps you creating, surviving, and loving through the loss.

    Here’s to four years of missing her, and four years of finding myself again in the space she left behind.

    Poeaxtry Links kofi portfolio

  • Four-Year First Date Anniversary, Autumn Adventures, & cute creations

    Four-Year First Date Anniversary, Autumn Adventures, & cute creations

    A Heartfelt Tradition: Crafting the Spooky Anniversary Basket

    Each year, I commemorate our first date by creating a unique, spooky-themed flower arrangement for Kelsey. This tradition began four years ago and has since become a cherished ritual. For this anniversary, I curated a book basket of items that blend our shared love for Halloween.

    Nightmare Before Christmas Pajama Set: A cozy nod to one of their favorite films A Matching Socks and Slippers: To keep their feet warm during the chilly autumn nights. Sensory Squishies: Including squishy eyeballs, cats, and pumpkins, adding a playful touch to the flowers and boo basket. Handcrafted Basket for flowers: Painted with red spray dye to mimic dripping blood, adorned with roses, sunflowers, and strategically placed squishies, all draped in faux spiderwebs.

    This basket isn’t just a gift; it’s a manifestation of my love, a tangible expression of our journey together.

    Axton and kelso making shadow trail hearts on a walk they shared for their 4 year anniversary
    Shadow trail hearts

    A Scenic Hike: Exploring the Ohio Canal Greenway

    After kelso went through the basket, we embarked on a hike along the Ohio Canal Greenway in Hebron. This 3.0-mile trail, starting at Canal Park and extending to State Route 79, offers a serene walk through shaded paths bordered by farm fields and remnants of the historic Ohio and Erie Canal  .

    Our walk led us to a picturesque covered bridge, a highlight of the trail, where we paused to reflect and enjoy the tranquility of the surroundings. The hike was not just a physical journey but a metaphor for our relationship: steady, enduring, and beautiful.

    Autumn Traditions: Dupler’s Pumpkin Land

    No anniversary celebration is complete without a visit to Dupler’s Pumpkin Land in Newark. This local gem, located at 5766 Jacksontown Road, has been a part of our fall traditions for the past four years  .

    At Dupler’s, we handpicked a variety of pumpkins and gourds, including one unique pink and blue one, and gathered squash to decorate our home. The farm also boasts attractions like a corn maze, wagon rides, and a haunted room, making it a fun-filled experience for all ages  .

    They also have emus! You can hand feed them! Each year Kelso and I giggle and squeal as we try to hand feed the dinosaurs with feathers and get scared. But this year I fed both! They both bit me! And it doesn’t even hurt! Plus I got it all on video!

    Crafting Memories: Handmade Jewelry and Reflective Moments

    Returning home, I channeled the day’s inspiration into creating handmade necklaces. These pieces, crafted from the rocks I just finished polishing from Lake Erie include polished fossils, granites, quartz, and more!

    As I worked, I reflected on the journey we’ve share. All the challenges, the growth, and the unwavering support. Each necklace will be available on Etsy shortly!

    A Day to Remember

    This anniversary wasn’t just about celebrating the past; it was about cherishing the present and looking forward to the future. From the thoughtful basket to the scenic hike, the pumpkin patch adventures, and the creative endeavors, every moment was a testament to our love and shared passions.

    As we continue to build our life together, I am reminded of the importance of tradition, creativity, and the simple joys that make our relationship unique. What is a tradition you love doing in your relationship? Tell me about it in the comments here or write a post on your blog and tag me!

    Links Poetizer Ko-fi

  • When Silence Speaks Back

    When Silence Speaks Back

    Write About Silence as If It Were a Person

    I think, it would walk softly but carry the weight of worlds. It would not announce itself. It would arrive between words, slip into the pause after laughter, and linger long after everyone else has gone home.

    Silence is both thief and teacher. It doesn’t always come empty-handed but, it never leaves without taking something, either.

    What Silence Steals

    Silence steals connection first. It builds walls between people who need to speak but can’t find the right words. It turns “I’m fine” into armor and conversation into an empty stare.

    It steals knowledge, too. The kind that grows in shared stories, in hearing others’ truths, and in daring to speak your own. When silence settles too long, understanding dies quietly underneath it.

    And it steals growth, the slow becoming that happens when we face conflict or confess fear. Silence freezes us in the moment before change, where everything we could say might shatter what we think we know.

    What Silence Gives

    Yet, silence gives, too. It brings peace, the kind that hums beneath chaos and exhaustion. It gives us room to breathe, to listen to ourselves when the world feels too loud.

    Silence also gives questions. Sometimes uncomfortable ones that echo in the dark: Who am I without the noise? What do I actually believe?

    And sometimes, silence gives fear. The fear that no one will answer back. The fear that the quiet means we’ve lost something vital or someone.

    The Balance Between Noise and Nothing

    Silence is never just absence. It’s a mirror. It shows us what we’ve hidden and what we’ve lost, but also what we’re strong enough to face.

    I’ve learned that silence isn’t my enemy and, it is only my reflection.

    What it steals, it teaches me to fight for.

    What it gives, I try to understand.

    In the end, silence doesn’t ask for my voice. It reminds me how much power I have when I finally choose to use it.

    Links Ko-fi Substack Etsy

  • Afternoon Recharge at Dennison Biological Reserve

    Afternoon Recharge at Dennison Biological Reserve

    A Sunday Reset

    Sunday is technically a work night for me. I’m a weekend warrior at the nursing home, but that doesn’t stop the pull of a perfect September afternoon. I woke up early around 2 p.m. and couldn’t get back to sleep. The weather was reading a nice 80 degrees, clear skies, the kind of day that begs for a quick escape, if you cannot fit in a full escape. Luna, my dog, was already side-eyeing me like she knew what was coming, wheels spinning in my head. I swear she knows me better than anyone.

    We ran to the car, like it was a race. Of course we made a quick pit stop at the drive-thru for a zero Red Bull, before we hit the road. Dennison Biological Reserve is one of our go-to spots when we want a short burst of fresh air, greenery, and wildlife without committing to a full-day hike. It is right up the street though technically a different town. Granville, Ohio is home to this local gem. Be respectful, leave no trace, don’t interfere with the natural environment as the college uses it for their programs and is nice enough to allow public access. They even leave out doggie bowls for water! Bless!!

    Arboretum Loop Trail

    We went straight for the Arboretum Loop Trail, and today we did it twice. It’s a flat, easy loop, perfect for a brisk half mile that we covered in under 10 minutes per lap. The trail is simple but full of little discoveries. Luna bounced along the path, sniffing everything, clearly enjoying the change in scenery. I spotted a striking yellow-and-blue butterfly, among the flowers as if it had been painted there for the occasion.

    At one point, we stumbled across an entire raccoon skeleton. Luna pulled and sniffed the air curiously, but I didn’t allow her close. I also didn’t risk collecting them for chimes and wands because roundworms aren’t worth that. Though, I couldn’t help but pause and appreciate how these small, almost hidden details make even short trips feel like an adventure. That’s the beauty of these local spots accessible and full of unexpected wildlife moments.

    Why These Small Trips Matter

    Even short trips like this make a difference. Being outside, moving, seeing wildlife, and noticing details like a butterfly’s wing or the pattern of leaves in sunlight. At least for me is a reset for my brain. It doesn’t matter that we only did a mile; walking, breathing fresh air, and being somewhere alive with natural details gives me the kind of mental recharge that sticks with me for hours. The sunlight is a big part of what makes this so important for someone like me with seasonal affective disorder. Though I would argue sunlight is important in boosting almost every individuals day… in the right situations.

    Autumn leaves freshly fallen on the Ohio trail
    Autumn Leaves on The Arboretum Trail

    These little adventures remind me that you don’t always need a full day or a long trail to feel recharged. Even a short loop or two at a local reserve can be enough to clear the head, reset perspective, and get me ready to handle the rest of my day… or night at work. Now I’ll be feeling much lighter and more grounded.

    Local Highlights

    Wildlife spotting: Butterflies, raccoon skeletons, birds, and the occasional squirrel or chipmunk. Trail accessibility: Seasonal vibes: September afternoons bring warmth, crisp air, and long shadows… perfect for photography or just breathing it all in.

    Dennison Biological Reserve is one of those gems that’s easy to forget until you need it. Quick, local, low-commitment, but high in payoff for mood, energy, and mental clarity. Even a single mile, a short loop, can remind you why you keep chasing little moments of nature.

    Though just to note there is also a close to 2 mile loop here and another closer to 3.5 mile loop. That both sit on a privately owned no access allowed lake/pond. Please respect others and their property and do not disturb the private lake areas.

    Poeaxtry’s links

    Photos discord

    Nature

  • A 33-Year-Old Trans Man’s Story of Love, Loss, Poetry, and Change

    A 33-Year-Old Trans Man’s Story of Love, Loss, Poetry, and Change

    Describe your life in an alternate universe.

    In this alternate universe, I’m still me. I am thirty-three years old and a trans man in Ohio. I carry the same stubborn heart and sharp edges. The difference is the weight on my chest is lighter here.

    The mornings still smell like coffee and fresh air. The seasons still move in the same Ohio rhythm. Summers are humid enough to feel like they could melt the skin right off your bones. Autumns are painted in fire-orange leaves. Winters slap your face awake the moment you step outside. But the biggest difference? In this version of my life, I wake up knowing I’m not alone in my fight.

    My Mom is Still Here, and that’s what matters most to me. Here, my mom is alive. Not just alive and thriving. She’s still my best friend, my safe place, my person. She’s the one I go to with half-baked ideas at midnight. Not only that, but she laughs with me over dumb memes. She sits beside me when my anxiety tries to chew through my ribs. The one who hears all my poetry first.

    We run my indie grassroots publishing company together. Her hands are always warm from holding a coffee mug, and mine are always stained with ink. Our kitchen table is permanently cluttered with stacks of manuscripts. Sticky notes are everywhere. There’s even the occasional stray pen cap that the cat tried to run off with. There’s cinnamon-scented candles burning most days, mixed with the faint metallic tang of printer ink. If you didn’t know, the idea that started this publishing house sprouted in me because of my mom’s constant reminder. She always said, “all people should be treated equally.”

    She would keep me grounded when I spiral into twenty new projects at once. I would nurture her belief. We can change the world with the right words. Art in the right hands amplifies this change.

    My Dad is a Ghost in the Story. My dad exists here too, but only as a background shadow. He has no voice in my life, no influence on my peace. I’ve shut that door and bricked it over. There’s no need for him in this world I’m building. He allowed my stepdad to adopt me. He chose this instead of refusing to be a dad and refusing to sign over his rights to me.

    My Siblings. My two sisters? Still my anchors. We don’t always agree, but the love is steady and sure. In this universe, my estranged brothers have returned to my life. Their return is not in a perfect, movie-ending way. Instead, it is in small, awkward steps. We’ve had conversations that leave the door open instead of slamming it shut. And they learned to understand that their experience with my father is not theirs and vice versa.

    Softball & School… Some things never change. I still played softball through school. I love the sound the crack of the bat makes. I love the dirt flying as I slid into base. I also love the smell of fresh-cut grass on a summer morning before a big game. I was always the loudest on the team, and I was just as fierce on the field. I still dropped out of high school. Still got my GED. But here, it wasn’t just about survival. And it was a conscious move toward freedom. I knew I could build something better outside the system that never made space for me.

    Poetry & Publishing…. In both universes, poetry runs in my veins. It’s messy, it’s raw, it’s how I breathe. I still self-published my first book. Still remember holding it in my hands, heart racing because my words were finally real. Still remember the first time my work appeared in a literary magazine and thinking, This is just the beginning. I actually get to show my mom here. This is unlike in the real world, where I didn’t get my shit together before she left us.

    But here, my publishing company is more than just my own platform. It’s a loud, unapologetic space for voices the world tries to silence. We focus on queer, trans, neurodivergent, disabled, Black and brown writers. We include survivors and anyone whose truth is too big for the narrow shelves of mainstream publishing. We make sure our books aren’t just printed, but seen. We send them to schools that actually care about representation. These libraries make space for more than just the “safe” stories. Our books go into the hands of readers who need them like air.

    Love Without Apology…. In this world, I’m still engaged. Still in love in a way that feels like safety and home. But here, we don’t guard our love. And we live it out loud. We dream big together, and when the fight for justice gets heavy, we hold each other steady. We talk about everything, about building a life where our identities aren’t just accepted, they’re celebrated. And we are always there when it matters most. Nothing really changes in the alternate world for Kelsey and I. I couldn’t wish for them to be any better than they are.

    The Change We’re Fighting For, the mission hasn’t changed: I want to be part of the change the world needs. In this alternate universe, we’re further along. Minority groups aren’t just existing, they’re thriving. Our art fills galleries, our books fill shelves, our stories are taught alongside the classics. No one questions whether we belong. We do. And the proof is everywhere.

    My Mother’s Words… On the days I feel tired, her voice is there. It is steady and certain: “They can’t erase what we refuse to let go of.” “Every life matters big or small.” “Someone thinks you’re scary too and they don’t squash you.” (The latter is in reference to bugs.) Those words are stitched into my bones. They remind me why I keep building. They remind me why I keep writing. They remind me why I keep showing up even when the world tries to push back. This is what keeps me going, having to live in the real world.

    But in this alternate universe, I’m still me. I’m the kid who played softball. I’m the girl who dropped out and found his own way. I’m the poet who refuses to be quiet. The difference is, here, the world listens a little closer. Here the world accepts me and others for what we truly are.

    links

    a poem about my mom

  • Mohican Gorge Overlook: Easy Access to One of Ohio’s Best Forest Views

    Mohican Gorge Overlook: Easy Access to One of Ohio’s Best Forest Views

    View of Mohican state Forrest from the Overlok
    Overlook view

    Sunday, August 3rd. After working all night, I decided to head out for a little fresh air and nature reset with Luna. Our second stop of three that morning at Mohican State Park was the Gorge Overlook. What I love about this place is how easy it is to get to. You pull into the parking lot right at the edge of the gorge, park your car, and just walk a few steps to the overlook itself. Luna was happy to roam around in the shade and sniff the quiet woods while I took in the view.

    The forest stretched wide and deep below us, thick with green trees that filled the valley and climbed the gorge walls across from us. You are just able to see a spot or two of the tell tale discoloration that will soon spread to most these trees. Though, the early August sunlight filtered softly through the canopy, casting patches of light and shadow along the trail and the stone wall at the overlook. That quickly erased any thoughts of the impending autumn. We attempted to walk the 1.4-mile loop trail behind the overlook, and we did but I doubt it was graceful. This trail is steep and complete with stairs and a fun swinging bridge.

    What made the trip even better was how close the Mohican Fire Tower was, just a five-minute drive from the overlook parking lot. We had visited the tower first, enjoying the panoramic aerial view. Then we came over to the gorge for a different kind of quiet POV from the trees perspective. Doing both back-to-back took less than an hour and a half, including time to soak in the sights and let Luna wander.

    Standing at the overlook as the morning sun lit the trees, the scene was calm and alive. The green stretched as far as I could see, the air cool in the shade, and the forest quiet except for distant bird calls. It’s the kind of place where you can pause and feel the size of nature all around you. Where you visibly can see the impending autumn, but still allow the lure of never ending summer steal you away.

    If you want a quick, no-fuss nature stop at Mohican that’s easy to access, dog-friendly, has restrooms and picnic spots, then the Gorge Overlook is for you. The loop trail is perfection and chaos. It’s a peaceful place to breathe in the woods or just sit and watch the forest go on forever. Paired with the steepest 1.4 miles of my life and a cute bridge.

    All photos

    Links

  • 10 Things I Know to Be Absolutely Certain (Even If the World Disagrees)

    10 Things I Know to Be Absolutely Certain (Even If the World Disagrees)

    List 10 things you know to be absolutely certain.

    10 Things I Know to Be Absolutely Certain

    The world is full of noise. People act like they’ve got it all figured out. They pretend certainty is something you can buy, Google, or fake your way into. But real certainty doesn’t come easy. It comes from surviving things that should’ve broken you. It comes from loving hard and losing even harder. It comes from walking through the same fire twice and still choosing to fight for something better. These aren’t opinions I’m floating out to debate. These are truths I’ve earned, and they’re not going anywhere.

    1. I’ll miss my mom forever. She was my best friend.

    Grief doesn’t shrink with time. It just learns how to sit quieter in the room. My mom wasn’t just a parent. She was my anchor. My favorite person. My best friend. When the world went sideways, she was the one I called. Now that she’s gone, the silence where her voice used to be is deafening. Missing her is permanent, but so is her impact. She taught me how to be real. She showed me how to love with everything I have in me. My mom always encouraged me to keep going even when I feel like I can’t. That love doesn’t disappear. It just shifts into a new forever one.

    2. All humans are equal, no matter their socioeconomic status.

    I don’t care if someone’s living in a penthouse or sleeping in their car. People are people. Period. Worth isn’t tied to a paycheck, an address, or a resume. It’s wild that we still have to say this. This society is obsessed with pretending some lives matter more because they’re richer. People think cleaner or more “put together” lives are more important. That’s bullshit. Struggle doesn’t make someone less human, and success doesn’t make someone superior. Every person deserves dignity, not because they earned it, but because they exist.

    3. I love the outdoors. Give me a trail and a dog, the all trails app, and I’m set.

    Nature is my peace. The second I step onto a trail, even a short one, something shifts in me. I breathe deeper. I move freer. Add a dog to that and it’s basically therapy. I don’t need fancy plans. Just give me access to All Trails, a pair of beat-up shoes, and a four-legged companion, and I’m good. There’s something healing about watching the world do its thing without us. Trees growing, rivers moving, birds calling out like nothing’s wrong. It reminds me there’s still beauty, still quiet, still reasons to keep going.

    4. The world doesn’t have to be like this. Everyone fighting for a crumb of the crust.

    This system? It’s not broken. It was built like this. Built to pit us against each other while a handful of people hoard the loaf. But that’s not how things have to be. We’ve been tricked into thinking there’s no other options, that this toxic hustle and scarcity mindset is just life. But it’s not. We can build something better. We can share more, care more, unlearn this survival-of-the-cruelest nonsense, and remember how to exist in community, not competition. All people deserve more than scraps.

    5. It’s very possible to not like either side of the U.S. government.

    It’s wild how people act like criticizing both major political parties makes you some form of traitor. I’m not here to support any side that lies. I won’t cheer for those who manipulate. I refuse to back those who sell out the people they’re supposed to serve. Propaganda exists everywhere. It just wears different colors depending on the channel. You can call out bullshit from all sides without being “uninformed” or “indecisive.” Sometimes the most radical thing you can do is refuse to play the rigged game at all.

    6. Dogs are better company than most people.

    Dogs don’t lie. They don’t scheme. They don’t pretend to be your friend while secretly rooting for your downfall. Dogs love honestly and without ego. They care when you’re hurting, even if they don’t know why. They don’t need explanations. They just show up. There’s something about that presence that makes you feel safe in a way most people can’t match. I’ll take a dog’s loyalty over a human’s performative empathy any day.

    7. The thrill is always worth the risk.

    Chasing a view requires sore legs and scraped hands. Making a life decision scares you half to death. If it makes your heart beat faster, it’s worth taking the risk. It’s probably worth it. That fight to get there. That doubt you have to push through. A quiet moment at the top where it all comes together. That’s what makes it real. The joy doesn’t come easy, but that’s why it matters. I’d rather risk it and live fully than play it safe and feel nothing at all.

    8. College degrees don’t measure intelligence or creativity.

    You can’t teach vision. You can’t grade lived experience. I’ve seen some of the most brilliant people get dismissed because they don’t have letters after their name. Some of the most useless ideas get celebrated because someone paid tuition. Don’t get me wrong, education can be valuable, but it’s not the only way. It’s definitely not the only proof of worth. Some of the smartest people I know are autodidacts, survivors, creators. Degrees don’t define genius. Action does.

    9. Family is everything, but I don’t just mean blood.

    Blood ties you to people, but it doesn’t make them your family. Family is who shows up when shit gets real. They see you at your worst and stick around anyway. They know your trauma, your mess, your contradictions, and still call you theirs. I’ve built my own family through friendship, through chosen connection, through shared history and mutual growth. Those bonds? They’re just as sacred. Maybe more so, because they were made by choice, not chance. I do, however, cherish my given family that I decided to keep around.

    10. Google isn’t how you prove research.

    We’ve gotten lazy with facts. Type anything into Google and you’ll find a dozen articles to back it up, true or not. Real research takes more. It takes curiosity, discernment, and effort. It means asking who wrote it, who funded it, and why. It means reading past the headline. Most people don’t go that deep. They just want something to confirm what they already believe. But truth doesn’t live in echo chambers. It lives in the uncomfortable space between easy answers and actual effort.

    These aren’t just passing thoughts. They’re part of me. They’ve been earned through grief, joy, clarity, and chaos. You don’t need everyone to agree with what you know in your bones. You just need to hold onto it when the world tries to convince you otherwise. So this is me holding firm. These are the things I know to be absolutely certain. And that’s enough.

  • Who Is Poeaxtry_? Authentic Personal Brand, Advocacy & Creativity.

    Who Is Poeaxtry_? Authentic Personal Brand, Advocacy & Creativity.

    Interviewing Myself: Who Am I?

    Q: What are you about?

    I stand for empathy, kindness, and radical inclusion. I fight for the right to be different and believe every human deserves equality and respect. My morals are rooted in advocacy and dismantling discrimination in all its ugly forms. I was 7 years old. I first remember my mom explaining to me why I shouldn’t treat her clients differently. & from that moment on, I knew bullying was wrong. That is truly sad when you think about the time some of you learned this.

    Q: What hobbies and interests fuel you?

    Poetry, rock hounding, rock tumbling, spell crafting, hiking, kayaking, camping, fishing, and so much more. I thrive in creative flow and nature’s raw energy. I excel in the heat and dirt; when sweat is covering my hair and shirt.

    Q: Outside writing and creating, what excites you?

    Swim, kayak, hang out with my doggy and the kitties. Witchcraft, reading, and playing video games.

    Q: What are you definitely not about?

    Bullies, especially adult ones. Racism, homophobia, transphobia, sexism, fascism. You know what, actually, fuck all phobias and ism bullshit and those who embody them. I can’t stand the cold; meaning the air and your tude.

    Q: What adjectives do not describe you?

    Quiet, boring, afraid. Just to name a few.

    Q: What don’t you want people to think about you?

    That I’m someone who tolerates inequality or doesn’t fight for the rights of everyone in humanity. I have always been one to know all humanity is equal and deserving I’d hate someone think the opposite.

    Q: What are your defining characteristics?

    Empathy, kindness, and the ability to include and uplift everyone. My loud ass mouth and my yellow ass attitude.

    Q: What do friends and family say about you?

    They call me hyper, loved, soft, a golden retriever, a good man, poetic, passionate, and an advocate. Someone who they can depend on.

    Q: What are your core values?

    Advocacy for policies that protect human rights, commitment to dismantling discrimination, activism, and honoring the diversity of human experience.

    Q: What causes matter most to you?

    Human rights, abortion access, marriage equality, healthcare justice, and the fight against harmful legislation as a whole. Ending the bullshit minorities are facing from Gaza to Ukraine and back to The USA.

    Q: Are these central to your brand and goals?

    Absolutely. I wouldn’t be me and my brand wouldn’t be by me if it weren’t. Would it?

    Q: What’s unique about you?

    I was a boy with boobies. I have a serious vitamin D deficiency. It makes me take a boatload of supplements. The creator forgot my other D too. So the struggle is real.

    Q: What are your short-term and long-term goals?

    Short-term: Keep creating new solo and collaborative projects, and grow my community.

    Long-term: Build a name and a publishing press that uplifts minorities and pays them fairly for their incredible work.

    Q: What are your strengths?

    I lead with empathy. While I hold space for grief, rage, softness, and transformation. I’m an advocate, especially for those who are silenced, overlooked, or underestimated. My creativity is wide-reaching and adaptable. I’m deeply intuitive. I connect dots most people miss. I build community in a way that makes people feel like they belong. I live my life with resilience, knowing I can be the storm or the calm sky. And more. Always more.

    Q: Is there one thing you do exceptionally well?

    Yeah. I take chaos and turn it into clarity. Whether it’s through a poem, a piece of handmade rock art, or helping someone feel seen. I try to take the raw, messy, painful stuff and turn it into something honest, haunting, and healing. And sometimes even beautiful.

    Q: What impact do you want to make?

    I want to foster real change. I want people to see me. I want them to realize, “Hey, I know someone trans.” There are more of us than you think, even if you don’t see us. Passing doesn’t matter, visibility does. Just because you don’t know every trans person is trans doesn’t make us exist any less.

    Q: Do your personal and business brands overlap?

    Completely. In more ways than one. I couldn’t think of business model names or my future platforms because I just incorporate all of me.

    Q: Why are you building a personal brand?

    To foster change, help others, and bring my authentic self and community together.

    Q: Are you breaking into the creator economy?

    Hell yes. I can only hope.

    Q: Are you building a business, a product, or a space?

    All of it of course. I have a business, products, and a space for connection and growth.

    Q: Are you creating a professional image to secure funding or partnerships?

    I hope so, but mostly to help and uplift others.

    Q: How will you create unique value for your audience?

    A: By blending literature, identity, and honesty into interactive work. My poetry, zines, e-books, and collaboration projects with meaning. I don’t just share; I connect. I create spaces where people feel seen, and remind them that their voice matters. While also giving them a place to share and a platform to publish on.

    links. portfolio. ko-fi. Payhip.