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
love, as I’ve learned it | the matters of you and I, part 2

This poem is for you:
The one who’s learning that love is more than a feeling—it’s a choice. For the soul who still believes in the kind that’s patient, kind, and rooted deep in God’s heart. It’s for those who want a love that doesn’t perform for the crowd, but prays in the quiet. The ones who would rather grow together than pose together. And for anyone who’s discovered that the holiest kind of love is less about being perfect, and more about being intentional…day after day, hand in hand, heart in Him.

Read More →
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.

Read More →
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.

Read More →
happy.

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.

Read More →

This Month’s Short Story

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

love, as I’ve learned it | the matters of you and I, part 2
Poetry LaTrisha Wills Poetry LaTrisha Wills

love, as I’ve learned it | the matters of you and I, part 2

This poem is for you:
The one who’s learning that love is more than a feeling—it’s a choice. For the soul who still believes in the kind that’s patient, kind, and rooted deep in God’s heart. It’s for those who want a love that doesn’t perform for the crowd, but prays in the quiet. The ones who would rather grow together than pose together. And for anyone who’s discovered that the holiest kind of love is less about being perfect, and more about being intentional…day after day, hand in hand, heart in Him.

Read More