[poeticmika]

The Cost Of Blooming

You beautiful, chaotic strangers kept reblogging my messy 2am poems and telling me to write that book. You saw something in my words before I did. You held space for my breaking and believed in my becoming.

So here it is: "The Cost of Blooming: Poems of Breaking and Becoming" - a collection that moves through seasons of trauma, love, grief, and finally, the quiet rebuilding of becoming who I was always meant to be.

From sitting on sidelines to refusing to accept bullshit. From whispering to the void to roaring on behalf of my inner child. From breaking to becoming.

This is for everyone who's ever felt too much, loved too hard, or had to learn that sometimes we have to break open completely before we can bloom.

Thank you for believing in these words before they became a book. Thank you for seeing me before I could see myself.

The Cost of Blooming: Poems of Breaking and Becoming : Yasso, Tamika: Amazon.com.au: Books

[poeticmika]

For You, My Sister

I shall reserve my breath for you— a quiet prayer, a steady hope. I will only wear out my feet— chasing after your children, holding onto the love we know.

I will only empty my bank— gifting them, the way you spoiled me as a child.

Let these sunken bags beneath my eyes be testaments to nights spent wishing, to moments I held your spark close.

Today, I cried— not for what's lost, but for what's still here. I robbed myself of your hug by staying away.

But today, I am cracking— a vessel longing to reach you. Today, I cannot hold you the way I always do.

Today, I cannot carry what they’re so used to watching me hold.

I'm sorry, sister— I'm cracking. Still, I will rise— with hope, with love, with patience.

Your spirit is here— fighting, waiting. I promise, my beautiful sister: I will carry you and your loved ones. This is how I love—by protecting. From the day I learned I had to, to today, as an honor, and always.

[poeticmika]

Dear Future Me.

I hope you're happy

I hope peace lives in your heart and mind.

I hope you are selfish

I hope you don't only become the you that you needed when you were younger but the you that you have always been and the you that forever grows.

I hope you keep your head up and your arms open.

I hope you have taken time to cry, to truly release

I hope you know how to share and relax

I hope you're in a safe space

I hope you make a safe space for others.

I wish you happiness

[poeticmika]

The Anchor and Me

All my life,

I was told I was a rock—

that others leaned on me,

that I was the point they turned to.

But I never truly felt that.

So I never knew.

I was less a rock,

more a vessel of the sea.

I offered safe passage,

showed people sights they’d never seen.

That was me—

until the current pulled me

to the unknown, the uncharted,

where waves thrashed and broke me,

where I was challenged

beyond my capacity—

and I was destroyed.

Every so often,

I’d find my way back

to calm waters—

just long enough

to catch my breath.

Then the storm would come again.

Then I met you.

My anchor.

We go on journeys together now—

not to escape,

but to explore.

With you, the sea doesn’t scare me.

The winds still howl,

the waves still rise,

but I don’t feel alone in it anymore.

You hold steady when I drift.

You keep me grounded

when the pull gets too strong.

And when I’m ready,

you lift just enough

for us to wander,

to float,

to dream.

We drift out,

pulled gently to sea—

and always,

we return home safely.

My anchor and me.

Without him,

I’d crash—

wrecked on sharp truths

and sleepless tides.

And without me,

he’d stay on the shore,

watching the horizon,

longing for the sea,

never knowing the wonder

of the journey we could make together.

[poeticmika]

Green is everywhere lately. It's on walls and doors, in books and bags, worn as pants and dresses. It’s the shade that’s trending now, and honestly, it’s almost annoying. Because it’s not just any green—it’s your green. It’s Taran Green.

Every time I see it, I think of you. I really miss you—mi save misim yu tru. Sometimes it’s soft and comforting, sometimes it catches me off guard, like a memory sneaking in. It’s deep and warm, like the steamed banana leaves you cook with—earthy, tender, a color that holds its own heat. I love that it reminds me of you, but then I catch sight of the people wearing it, owning it like it’s theirs, and I can’t help but laugh. You’d hate that. You’d roll your eyes at the trend of it all. That’s Stumpy and Taran Green, not runway green, not influencer green.

Maybe it’s silly—maybe I’m being childish, assigning a whole color to a boy and his toy. But when someone asked me what I’d call that shade was, I didn’t even hesitate. I told them, “It’s Taran Green."

[poeticmika]

All of Your Tomorrows

How do I tell you that my tomorrow

exists only if you stand in it?

That every path I walk bends toward you,

reshaping itself with each step we take?

How do I tell you that all I want—

all I have ever wanted—

is to be the dawn of all your days,

the shadow cast by your evening light?

How do I whisper to the world,

soft enough for only you to hear,

that time must now make way for us,

for love like this will not stand still?

How do I make you understand

that I do not seek to change—

not for you, not for love, not for anything—

for all that I am already belongs to you?

How do I show you I will not follow,

nor will I ask you to follow me?

But hand in hand, step in step,

we will carve a path where neither walks alone.

How do I say that in a world of countless faces,

endless voices calling from the crowd,

you are the only one I see—

the only one I have ever seen?

[poeticmika]

No Butterflies

When I first met you,

I didn’t feel butterflies,

and I wondered if that was okay.

When I first hugged you,

you didn’t hug back,

and I wondered if that was okay.

When I first put your hand on my leg,

I think I saw you gulp—

and I wondered if it was okay.

When I first saw you laugh,

I caught a glimpse of our future,

and I wondered if that was okay.

Then I realized—

I didn’t feel butterflies; I felt safe.

You didn’t hug back, but I could wait.

You didn’t rush to hold me,

but when you did, it was steady, not fleeting.

It wasn’t a whirlwind or a storm—

it was the calm after years of rain.

And in that quiet,

I knew.

It wasn’t about wondering if it was okay.

It was about knowing, finally,

that you were here,

and we were starting something.

Something real,

not rushed, not fragile—

but strong,

like roots breaking through the earth.

Something that whispered of forever,

a future steady and sure.

And someday, I know—

we could move mountains.

Not with haste or force,

but with the quiet power

that deepens between us,

that grows stronger each day.

[poeticmika]

Rock and Drift

You call me your rock, steady and sure,

Yet I feel like a stone, left to weather the shore.

When I reach out, my words fade in air;

Silence stretches, and you’re hardly there.

I was shown the road—where were you?

I took the wheel alone, needing you too.

And when I lost love, aching for grace,

You told me, “Go hug someone else in my place.”

I held my dreams, a vision in sight,

But you just laughed, like I’d lost my own light.

Hopes brushed aside like dust in the breeze,

A pattern that stings, driving me to my knees.

How can I be your rock yet feel cast away,

Held when needed, then left to decay?

I want to be there, strong as you lean,

But it’s hard to feel solid when I’m barely seen.

[poeticmika]

The 26th

Ironic, isn’t it? Wanting to hurt myself, because of your death. Ironic, or maybe it’s contagious— isn’t it the way grief molds itself into desperate shapes?

They say they see the shifts in me, tiny ripples breaking the calm. Maybe they’re not so tiny. Maybe I don’t see myself as they do.

You were here, once. Right here. I remember you beside me, hands deep in the soil, offering advice I never asked for. Your voice was steady, like the earth.

But now, this month lingers, each day soaked in dread. Because the 26th is coming, and I can’t bear to be reminded— not just of losing you, but what if I lose her, too?

My sister, my strength, I fear that date like the darkness of a storm rolling in. What if it takes her, like it took you? Can you imagine the same day, engulfed by loss? I’m not ready for her to leave this world.

But don’t worry, I’m not going to do it. The release isn’t enough, not compared to the guilt, etched deep into my skin. Memories of you carve their home there, persistent as scars, rooted as deeply as you once were.

[poeticmika]

Wounds of Love

How many wounds has love carved deep, Where trust and pain together sleep? The hand that held the sharpened blade, Was once the one for which you prayed.

The tender touch turned cold and fierce, Yet still you stayed, suppressing tears. For love can wound, as well as heal, Its truest depths, a hidden deal.

You bled for words that never came, Each silent cry, a whispered name. The cuts were cruel, the scars were deep, You held your breath, afraid to leap.

Yet still you loved, despite the pain, Believing hearts could beat again. But how much more must one soul bear, When love’s the wound it cannot repair?

[poeticmika]

So, where does this all begin, and how will it end?

This language of metaphors, wrapped in song references,

Drenched in emotion, coated in little sprinkles of glitter

Pretending to be hashtags.

Where is this all going?

Where it was always headed—to…

With me. It was born and raised with me,

It lives in me and shall die with me.

It will be shared as I share myself.

It will shine when I allow it, and it will move

From lying in pieces to sitting in peace,

As I long to.

One day, it will be just one simple part of me,

But for now, it grows as I do.

It will share as much as I can give,

And it will live within me,

In my heart of hearts,

With all that is dear to me.

[poeticmika]

I still see you.

You hide behind your fear, dressing it as anger.

It’s more comfortable to be feared than to be seen,

Than to be seen as a victim. You and I, we're done with that.

You move so quickly, slipping far from view,

Afraid that people might notice what you wish to hide,

The thing that gnaws at your very soul.

But I still see you.

I see your pain.

I’m unsure how I could ever help you,

But know this—I see you.

You’ll never need to hide from me,

Even though you've hidden for years.

You step into the light, feeding the fires,

Sharing your bubbles like champagne,

Wrapping yourself in shadows cast by the light you bring.

They are the darkest I've ever seen—

Engulfing, weaving, consuming; it’s as if you hope

They’ll swallow your tears.

I see the cracks in your armor,

The places where the light seeps through.

So, if you stumble, if you need air to breathe,

I’ll be there in the dark,

To hold your broken pieces, to bind your shattered armor.

I’ll hold your worlds together, reminding you

It’s okay to break apart.

I’ll stay until you feel whole again,

Then I’ll slip back into the wind,

Back into the whispering silence,

Letting you continue to curse the breeze

But know, even in your darkest hours,

When the weight feels too much to bear,

I’ll still be here, unseen, unheard,

A quiet reminder that someone cares.

So take your time, rebuild, renew, For I'll always see the real you.

[poeticmika]

Dear 8-year-old me,

I often picture myself holding you, telling you it gets better. That you learn so much and become a strong woman. I often drift away from reality, wondering what could have become of you if you'd had support from others, not just from within. I picture us—calm, safe, still—finally able to breathe. And then I realize, only I can give that to you.

Dear girl, every time they push and pull you down, promise me you'll rise. You'll find your feet and learn how to walk on your own, head held high. You and I—we are all we have. But as it turns out, honey, we are all we need.

[poeticmika]

I know you well, though time has passed,

And miles between us, distance vast.

Your demons too, they visit me,

But I don’t keep them — I set them free.

They knock at my door, every now and then,

I wonder if you're better, my friend.

Yet I refuse to hold them tight,

Or bear their weight through endless night.

I rope their feet, I bind them fast,

I tape their mouths, they cannot last.

I sling them over, shoulder wide,

Until I break, and then they hide.

Your demons, yes, I know them too,

But I don't dance as you often do.

You treat them like they're here to stay,

I hope they’ll leave before your final day.

For peace, I wish, for you to find,

Before these shadows take your mind.

And I, I’ll fight them, as best I can,

Hoping freedom comes to you, dear man.

[poeticmika]

Adorkable

Oh, how you stumble when you speak, With a dorky grin that makes me weak. Your glasses perched just out of place, The cutest nerd I've ever chased.

You call yourself a little geek, But to me, you're bold and sleek. The coolest man in all the land, I’m always reaching for your hand.

Your awkward dance, that goofy laugh, Your nervous jokes just cut me in half— With joy, with love, with everything, You make my silly heart just sing!

And every moment that we share, I find new ways to show I care. Though doubt may linger in your mind, My love for you is one of a kind.

I hope I’m more than just enough, I want to give you all my love. Forever with you by my side, My perfect nerd, my heart's true guide.

So don’t you worry, don’t you hide— You’re cool, you’re sweet, you’re dignified! Together, we will always be, My darling dork, you're all I need.

[poeticmika]

Scar Tissue

My smile is the biggest scar you left.

My tongue is not my own— it is deformed and barely fits in my mouth. It moves with such weight, and drags through my words to you. The scar tissue stole my ability to taste, it only makes my hunger grow.

My eyes carry a thousand broken souls— the thousand that were beaten, bruised, bashed and set alight by you. Each one shattered in its own way. All of them crushed, stripped down, or slashed by your hands. Yet, they stand up in front of you, again and again.

My nose—once mine— physically molded by you in genetics and the night you snapped it out of place with your hands. My whole face affected by the little flick it makes, it never grew back right. I know how to smell though, and now that I’m closer, I smell the fear from you.

My ears are small, they hold only one set of jewelry— I don’t need you to pay them any attention. But how I heard you, how I heard everything you did and didn’t say. These little ears have given me the biggest strength. What’s that saying you like? "Knowledge is power?" My god, do I know you.

[poeticmika]

Reflexion

He is me, and I am him, woven in shadows, spun from light. Different yet the same, we are bound. I feel it in my heart, true and strong. He is not like me, but I know— his heart is true, his love is real. A reflection, but not a copy. I am him, and he is me.