At 11, I wrote a farewell letter. I didn’t go through with it, the thought of my family’s pain kept me here. For 14 years, I lived with depression until God healed me in 2023.

Somewhere along the way, writing became a lifeline.
During the pandemic, it grew into a hobby and eventually into Liminal Letters, a space for poetry and essays about that in-between season of adulting and maturing. I even won a poetry contest at FIU
(will I share it here? probably not; if you see it, that girl is not me).

In 2025, the words moved from page to stage as I began performing spoken word poetry in South Florida.
If you’re exploring poetry too, come back on Mondays—there’ll always be something new here.