I have created a WATTPAD account where I will be posting most of my future material (along with here on my blog). Please feel free to follow along! I made my poetry book available via Wattpad (for FREE). Please check it out, vote & share! My account is KimilyET24 Thank you ❤





I put up a brave façade, but on the inside I’m a coward. I am confident in many things, but not those that matter most. My confidence centers primarily on superficial matters.

I am, & have always been, comfortable with my appearance. I joke that I am “100% genuine, all original parts,” & for the most part that is true. I can admit I am a high maintenance girl. I love to put on makeup & dress up to go out. Yet, I am comfortable enough with my natural self that I walk around daily with my hair in a bun, no makeup on, rocking a t-shirt. Point being, I have no issue with my appearance & I have never contemplated plastic surgery or otherwise redesigning my body. I do love to decorate it though with tattoos & piercings, however, I do not consider this a true body transformation.

I am also brave when it comes to activities I do for fun. I am borderline daredevil material. I have tried everything from skydiving to scuba diving, riding every rollercoaster I encounter, traveling abroad alone, riding horses, & so on. I crave adrenaline rushes! I am all about trying new & exciting things.

This is all fine & great, but there is still something holding me back. Based on the previous information, most wouldn’t peg me as a scaredy cat, but that is exactly what I am; a person who lives in fear.

I am afraid I will fail in my future endeavors. I have toyed with copious ideas over the years regarding what career path I should choose for my life & I never seem to find peace. Everything I consider feels like a cop out for not writing. I have dreamed of making a living off my writing for years. Working on my own schedule from my computer in whatever remote location I so desire. Yet, I have always been terrified of putting myself out there. With many jobs the focus is not centered on you, it is about the work you do. Doctors get praise for saving lives, construction workers for building things, architects for designing, secretaries for assisting, etc. Most careers exist to make people’s lives easier in some way shape or form. They provide some service or produce a tangible object of some sort. Writing isn’t like that.

Writing differs from a typical job because it is an art form. Any artist, regardless if they are in the performing arts, studio artistry, or creative writing, understands what it means to put themselves out there & be exposed to high volumes of criticism. Whether you have 5 followers, 5 thousand, or 5 million, your fans & haters are watching what you do. Sure there are people who will love what you do & be supportive, but “haters gone hate.” No matter how many fans you gain, there will always be people that try to tear you down. The fact of the matter is it’s easier to pull someone off a table than it is to pull someone up on it. Especially if the foundation of that table is unsteady. I am the person standing on the table & my ego is the shaky foundation. It is already extremely fragile & unstable. The simplest remark can topple me off that table. People say, “You shouldn’t care; other people’s opinions shouldn’t matter to you,” & while that may be true, to be honest those words aren’t very realistic to me. No matter how hard I try to release my insecurities, I can’t. I’m scared to put my writing out there because I feel like people’s opinion of my writing is a direct judgement on me as a person. Particularly since the vast majority of my writing is extremely personal. I know this fear is irrational to many people, but it is crippling to me. Everyone is tortured by the fear of something & this is what affects me most. This & clowns, which are the demons that crawled out of the drain holes to hell.

So what are your thoughts? Share with me your fears & how you deal with them. I am open to advice, so shoot me a comment or email (visit my contact page) with your suggestions on how to let go of this terror that is strangling me, preventing me from pursuing my dreams. Share your recommendations on this subject & let’s help eachother out!

PS I hope to gain the courage to start posting some of my better, albeit more personal writing to my site soon so stay vigilant! 🙂

The Heart-BEAT

I am in the process of starting a 501c3 nonprofit organization for hopeful musicians. My goal is to assist in the acquisition of instruments, equipment, software, etc. required to produce/perform; as well as raise money to help these musicians fund their music lessons & even scholarships to music programs. I would ideally like to target small town or low-income musicians. I am passionate about the art of music & it’s influence globally & I want to help spread that worldwide! Check out the link below to my latest page for updates on the organization & see what we’re up to! 🙂 ❤

The Heart-BEAT ❤

For my Niece/Nephew

As I stare into your eyes
Before they have decided what color to be
You’re tiny & innocent
While you’re gazing up at me

I cannot wait
To watch you grow
So as time passes
I’ll beg it to slow

Before words you speak
I’ll kiss you on the cheek
Your tiny hand holding mine
The feeling is so divine

I love you now
I’ll hold you forever
You’ll wonder how
I’ll let go of you never

You can’t hold up your head
All you do is lay in bed
Counting sheep is not a thing
But you sure love toys that sing

Your room is full of giraffes
Unawares, you do arts & crafts
Fingers & toes covered in paint
To make gifts for us to claim

You’ll never grow old
You’ll always be younger than me
So you will always be told
How much you mean to me

Your skin like crushed velvet
Your hair fine peach fuzz
& when you need something
You make a big fuss

Swaddled in cashmere
With a cap to keep you warm
When you cry like a kitten
All the adults start to swarm

Live life to it’s fullest
Don’t die old & boring
Be the best you can be
Like an Eagle keep soaring

One boy & one girl
One silver, one gold
Take care of each other
Don’t try to fit the mould

Be kind, openhearted
Don’t judge like the rest
Befriend everyone
& put love to the test

Be patient, be caring
Be strong, & be good
Be obedient & sharing
Like you wish others would

Kisses & cuddles
& hugs everyday
No matter from where
Love always, ~AK

Playing with Perspective :)

So yesterday I decided to try something different that I haven’t done in years. I wrote from a friend’s Point of View. I took what I know about his situation & put his thoughts into my own words. He shall remain anonymous, but here is the result:


4.5 years down the drain

Was it wasted or was it just insane?

People can pry, but they’ll never know why

It was my own decision to fly


We met at night

Lived in the dark, not the light

But we grew apart

& now I get a fresh start


I may not know how

But I’ll find my own way

& I’m not gonna listen

To what others have to say


It’s not their job

To decide my fate

I’m a grown man

& that’s something I hate


I make my own tracks

& I spin ’em in the club

I drop hints for the girl

That I low key love


Smoke ’til no one

Can see my green eyes

So when she saw them

She was so surprised


Stay up every night

To watch the sun rise

& socialize with strangers

I don’t even recognize


I gave my mother a copy of the adoption poem I wrote & my Memaw asked for one as well. But, I decided to write her something more personal instead 🙂

Memaws are smart

Memaws are kind

Memaws are fun

I’m so glad I have mine


Memaws make vegetable soup

They fill it with okra

They relax at home

& watch shows like Oprah


Memaws make homemade fudge

& mix pecans in half

But they leave half plain

Because I don’t like that riffraff


They take care of puppies,

Bunnies & doves alike

They help raise baby animals

And ride skinny wheeled bikes


Memaws keep secrets

They keep mothers in line

They take lemons in their water

They grow citrus, but not limes


Memaws go with Papaws

Who pretends he’s Moss Back

He scares kids in the pool

When the sky outside is black


Memaws are moms extended

They make kids follow rules

But, they feed us cookie dough

& that is pretty splendid


Memaws lay on rafts

So they don’t get their hair wet

But kids flip them over

& they get a whoopin’ threat


Memaws don’t judge so much

They often take your side

But sometimes they disagree

& they do so with pride


Memaws are loving creatures

They go slow & take their time

They love coffee & naptime

& are teaching all the time

World Adoption Day 11-15-16


Happy #WorldAdoptionDay to anyone who has been blessed by this beautiful gift 😇 #WetHairDontCareClub

World Adoption Day 11-15-16
Adoption brought me family
Without it I’d be alone
Adoption brought me a sister
& together we have grown

It gave me someone to fight with
It gave me someone to love
It gave me someone to confide in
Though she doesn’t always keep her mouth shut

As a child I let her dress me
She’s always had great style
But many times she’d test me
& I’d stay mad a while

She taught me many things
Like how to tell designer from a fake
Yet in many ways we’re different
For example, she does not like cake

We got our puppies together
One Christmas in New York
Another way we’re different
Is I do not eat pork

Adoption made us siblings
Though we are not blood
But we learned to love each other
Until one day we became buds

We lost our home in Katrina
& that brought us close again
Our parents made us sisters
But our love made us friends

She loves to shop indoors
While I love to play outside
As children we fought over chores
As adults we travel worldwide

We’ve travelled the world together
From Costa Rica to Europe
Canada to the Caribbean
& she always did my makeup

The day that she got married
I stood right by her side
I helped her to get ready
She made a beautiful bride

Adoption is a blessing
It is a gift from God
A miracle from up above
& one we should applaud


So I wanted to spotlight one of my object writings from a couple weeks ago. I feel like it was somewhat overshadowed the first time I posted it as it was at the end of a long post. I was given 10min to write about “Laugh” & this is what I came up with it. I quite enjoyed this one & I hope you will too!

Contagious. Happy, a smile on everyone’s face. A frown turned upside down. A fantastic ab workout. Laughter makes the world go round. Like music, it is a universal language. Even more so, because every country laughs the same. People, however, don’t. Each laugh as unique as the individual itself. No two alike, even twins it sets apart. Laughter heals the soul. It stitches it back together again. It mends emotional wounds. Laughing a jokes till you roll on the ground in tears. Intimate moments you share with one glance at your best friend. Forced chuckles at you’re bosses lame comments to stay in his good graces. Laughing is healthy! It produces endorphins. The opposite of strife. Bringing people together. Unifying through a common interest. Laughing can be mean though. Laughing at a persons’ insecurities, weakness, or failures will never be okay! Laugh with, not at. Laughing tastes like sunshine & rainbows. It smells of burning leaves, fresh baked cookies. It sounds like a rainstorm with thunder and lightening. Even dogs laugh with their tails. Laughing is for all ages, it keeps you young! It tenses up then relaxes the muscles. Laugh til you cry, until the day that you die. It pays to be happy. You are more content when you can learn to laugh at yourself.

7/30 Social Media

We are all under scrutiny
there’s no place to hide
Social media is the culprit
it reeks of hatred worldwide

People like to try to judge
They will hold a grudge
Into lives they spy and pry
with an eagle eye
You shouldn’t have to be blind to be kind
or to look upon each face with grace
What is up with controversy
can’t we show each other mercy

The key to tolerance
is to fight ignorance
The key to humanity
is international amity

8/29-9/2 Object Writing

Cold, solid, gray metal or white plastic. A vessel for water or waste to travel through. Easily clogged. When, blocked, product or bleach must be poured in to remove the sludge. Smells of algae and feces. On the other hand, pipe cleaners, are cute, colorful, fuzzy instruments, which children often use to make arts and crafts. The antennae or legs of a bug, all squiggly. Soft short hairs, surrounding on center of twisted wire. Pointy to the touch on the ends. The smell of glue and glitter and gold fish snacks at the arts & crafts table of the preschool.

Glad this one was 10 min, I could have written about this subject for hours, about the MREs we ate (meals ready to eat), syphoning gas out of totaled cars, finding a giant snapping turtle along with my grand piano in the deep end of our swimming pool…

Growing up in south Mississippi, with a house on the beach, hurricanes were something I always was aware of. Each summer we had to watch the weather closely, in case anything, even a tropical storm were to form in the Gulf or Pacific. Often preparing our house with hurricane shutters on the windows, taping glass, & packing up our most important belongings to travel away with. Eleven years ago yesterday, however, my life shook with the force of 174 mph winds. My house on the beach washed away by a near 30 ft storm surge. Luckily my family & I got out with most of our important possessions, and we were lucky enough to own another residence in north Mississippi to retreat to. We left in the middle of the night after the storm hit to attempt the return home before ALL of the roads were closed. We were able to make it to the coast, however, not able to drive down the streets to our house. Luckily our larger boat had been parked up the river & survived the storm, on this boat I lived for the first few days following the storm. Thankfully we had enough gas to run the engine a few hours a day for air conditioning. However, I was very ill during this time & the heat of south Mississippi summer was no help at all. My cousin set up a hammock & slept on the slab of my house to protect it. While many others spray painted threatening signs that said “You loot, we shoot.” The smell was unbearable. Mississippi mud & Sludge dug up from the depths. I can still remember that smell today 11 years later. School was out for months. We had no belongings. Merely a few pairs of undergarments.

Hand-painted holiday placemats that always seem to stick to the table. Rectangular, with chopped off corners. Year round, outside of holidays, they had flowers. They remind me of home cooked meals. We never eat at home anymore. The kitchen went out of commission long ago! Today placemats are cloth, because there is no food to spill on them. While the other ones wiped off easily. Placemats and table settings. Fashionably designed name plates. Turkeys and pilgrims at Thanksgiving. The Annieglass chargers and dinner plates of the finest china. Sparkling cutlery and crystal water goblets. A pitcher full of sweet tea sits in the middle of the table along with the butter and gravy. Each place delicately marked so that not one feels left out. Places chosen strategically. The smell of green bean casserole and dressing fills the air. & for dessert, a red velvet cake, or grandma’s homemade sweet rolls-or both. Fresh rolls on the table swaddled in a cloth laying in a basket. Placemats to protect the white table cloth covering the oblong table.

90sec-Belly Ring
Cold, shiny piece of metal. Half moon shaped with a jewel on one end, a charm dangling from the other. Rusty blood from the piercing fresh and new.

Charlie got the last golden ticket. A moment that would change his life forever. It took him to the land of chocolate, where EVERYTHING was made of candy. You could even eat the flowers & the grass. Smell of sugar swirls & cocoa powder. Sour gum balls & everlasting gobstoppers. Children also received golden tickets in The Polar Express. These tickets allowed them to board a train for a journey to the North Pole on Christmas Eve. Once again, a little boy’s life was changed by a golden ticket when he met Santa & received the first gift of Christmas. After that he was an eternal believer in the spirit of Christmas. Golden tickets are not just golden color, they are made of magic & transport children to wondrous lands filled with the unknown. These journeys stay with the children for the rest of their lives. Keeping the children young. The feeling of joy bubbling inside until it overflows onto the people surrounding them. As a wise elf once said, “seeing isn’t believing, believing is seeing.” You must have faith in something. & these children’s obedience & faith are what led them to the precious prizes. Gifts they received that would last a lifetime. The chocolate factory for Charlie, & the bell from Santa’s sleigh for the little hero boy. A bell that he could hear as long as he still believed, which he always did. Magic is out there, but it takes a pure heart to find it & keep it alive within them. One doesn’t need a ticket to find it, just the lucky ones