The Journal

A cozy bedroom scene with a bed in the foreground, a wooden nightstand with stacks of books, a potted plant, and a wall with sunlight casting shadows.

On a line, we add words. Carved from the lightest boxes and the deepest rivers. They flow from my essence, stretching across the lines that once held my silence, we write. we turn. we return. Carving out words from the lightest boxes and the deepest rivers—they flow from my essence. Line after line until the lines become art, and the art becomes memory, and the memory becomes message.

I stand at a crossroad. But really—there’s only one way. I lean not on my own understanding, like a sheep who needs a shepherd. I’m not the captain of this boat. I die daily to the self society sculpted—picked, pruned, burned, blamed, and painted into fear. I will move not on impulse, but by instruction. Like a piece in His hand on a board He already sees the end of. Not checkers. Not chess. Not guesswork. But something positioned—-not for the win, but for His will.

Nothing But Poetry

For the ones still becoming. Still Emerging.

Interior of a building showing a set of beige stairs with a beige wall and a corner of a empty beige shelf.

The Journal

in the silence… | the matters of you and I, part 1

This poem is for You: The one who loves quietly. The one who carries what was never finished, still blooming beneath the silence. It’s for those who wonder if the other person feels it too—not out of regret, but because love like that doesn’t die. It grows deeper in the quiet. And maybe, just maybe, it will meet you again… in bloom.

This poem is for You: The anxious mind craving peace. The soul learning to be still, even when the world keeps moving.

This poem is for You: The one who still sits on the sidelines, watching someone they loved or love live a life that no longer includes them. It’s for the quiet hearts who smile through pain, who love deeply—even after letting go.

This poem is for You: The one who felt empty. The one who almost gave up. The one who thought there was nothing left to hold on to. The past version of you—The one who lived in the dark and didn’t know if light would ever show up. But God did. He brought the light. He called you out of that tunnel.

PERFECTLY

FOREVER

An animated woman with blonde hair looking into a car's rearview mirror, which reflects her face with a serious expression on a rainy day, with raindrops on the window and city buildings in the background.

This morning, I was someone’s wife. By nightfall, I was sitting in a bar with mascara on my cheeks, a ring in my pocket, and a storm unraveling in my chest. And somewhere in the middle of all that pain… God whispered, “Now, begin.

All The Entries

From Poetry to Letters to Life Reflection and more

LaTrisha Wills 8/1/25 LaTrisha Wills 8/1/25

in the silence… | the matters of you and I, part 1

LaTrisha Wills 7/31/25 LaTrisha Wills 7/31/25

July: A Little Shift

LaTrisha Wills 6/21/25 LaTrisha Wills 6/21/25

Weeks 20-24: Gaslight, Grasp, Grace

LaTrisha Wills 5/12/25 LaTrisha Wills 5/12/25

Before the Sun Sets: A Conversation on Anger, Faith, and Freedom

LaTrisha Wills 5/11/25 LaTrisha Wills 5/11/25

Week 19: Stretching, Shifts, and Scripture

LaTrisha Wills 5/4/25 LaTrisha Wills 5/4/25

Week 18: Movement, Mimosas & Maturity

LaTrisha Wills 4/30/25 LaTrisha Wills 4/30/25

Perfectly Forever: The Start of The End

LaTrisha Wills 4/27/25 LaTrisha Wills 4/27/25

Week 17: Released, Rested, and Renewed

This week was the opposite of heavy. I let go — again. This time, it came in the form of leaving my job. But before the resignation came the reflection, the movie that stirred my spirit, the unexpected chaos, and the deep knowing that it was time to walk away.

LaTrisha Wills 4/21/25 LaTrisha Wills 4/21/25

in the late hours.

This poem is for You: The anxious mind craving peace. The soul learning to be still, even when the world keeps moving.

LaTrisha Wills 4/21/25 LaTrisha Wills 4/21/25

happy.

LaTrisha Wills 4/21/25 LaTrisha Wills 4/21/25

no sugar to coat.

LaTrisha Wills 4/21/25 LaTrisha Wills 4/21/25

the youth within the sun.

This poem is for You: The one who feels overwhelmed by their thoughts. The one who is trying to make sense of life, identity, and purpose.

LaTrisha Wills 4/20/25 LaTrisha Wills 4/20/25

the finding of inner peace.

This poem is for You: The one who was told to dim her light. The one who was labeled too loud, too strong, too quiet, too much. The one who was always expected to fight, but rarely allowed to rest. The one who started to question her beauty, her softness, and her voice. The younger self.

LaTrisha Wills 4/20/25 LaTrisha Wills 4/20/25

Week 16: Waiting, Grateful, and Truth

LaTrisha Wills 4/19/25 LaTrisha Wills 4/19/25

alone.

This poem is for You: The one built walls to feel safe. The one who mistook isolation for peace. The one who’s learning that healing starts in solitude, but home is found in Him—and with others.