Poetry: Pretty Red Door

By Monica C. Voskamp

I entered and that I regret, 

The room with the pretty red door.

It wasn’t so pretty inside.

It was colourless yet you could feel

The depth of black evil.

You could taste the sound of deep sorrow.

You could feel the pain of grave mistakes.

It wasn’t a pretty room, no. 

It was a room that led to endless

Tunnels channeling deeper into

Dark anxiety and twisted hands of pain.

It wasn’t a pretty room, 

It just had a pretty red door.

Always hope. Always believe. Always love. ❤️

*Photo Credit: https://unsplash.com/@lalasse

Poetry: Anxiety

By Monica C. Voskamp

Hands clutching round my throat

I struggle for a breath.

Heart beats pounding in my chest

I struggle to get free.

Captor laughs in scorn

Mocking words: “You want Free?”

His grip tightens harder

As his fingers interlock around me.

I writhe and struggle

Gasp and try scream

Desperate words: “Let me free”

But this captor has no mercy for me.

The lights and room start to blur

I know my minutes are few

I lurch forward once more

To try shake his hands off me.

“I want free,” I moan

But nothing can change the grip

Until I realize first my captor

He is named Anxiety.

Always believe. Always hope. Always love.  💓
*Photo Credit: https://unsplash.com/@krivitskiy

Poetry: Be Brave

By Monica C. Voskamp

You need to be brave.

You need to stop this running

And finally face the storm.


Be brave.

This is what you need to conquer.

This is what you need to find



Face your storm, my dear

It’s time for you to rise up

And weather this storm

With dignity.


Be brave.

Exhale your fears

Ground yourself

In this place.


Be brave.

Anchor in Love,

Your victory flag.


Always hope. Always believe. Always love. 💕

*Photo Credit: https://unsplash.com/@nikolasnoonan

Poetry: ..the monsters limits..

By Monica C. Voskakmp


They were constricting.

Constricting faster than her heart could beat.

All this anxiety,

All this fear,

Constricting her very life beat.


Thoughts consuming,

Worries building.

Always ever only constricting her ability

To live, thrive and breathe.


Fear kept tightening its chains

Round her weary body.

Worry kept sucking the life light

Out of her soul.


What could she do with

Such masterminds of destruction?

How could she fight these

Monsters of demanding restriction?


She was weary of the fight,

Weary of the chase for greater things.

She trembled at the thought,

Perhaps the light of peace was a mere breathe,

Fading in the wind.


Chasing chasing, ever chasing a mind dream,

While constricting, constricting kept on happening.


No more fighting.

She couldn’t keep fighting,

this immense storm of insanity.

She could no longer deny

The monsters invading, overtaking.


Time to stop, look them in the eye

Tell them honestly who and what they are.

Tell them: they are NOT me.


They are NOT my masters.

They can only pretend, only threaten,

But their power is much less than she,

Their power is much less than she believed.


She tells herself anew,

I am me.

Perfectly flawed beautiful intelligent me.

I have a sunlight power to break free.

These monsters do not own me.

These monsters only can scare me

And lie that they are the king of me.


It’s time to stop resisting.

It’s time to start living

And working with every side of reality.


Monsters are real. Monsters can terrify.

But I am also a key part in reality.

I have the right to define

Who is me.


I’m am always me. Always me.

The life light in me remains far past the day I die,

My life light shines into eternity.


When I look here,

Into the hollow eyes of my monsters,

I look pointblank honestly.

And as I brave lock holding their eyes,

I find a new possibility.

My opportunity to see.


My limits are only what I choose to be.

My limits are only stopped by my own timidity.

My limits are really not limited.

My fears must be.

Always hope. Always believe. Always love. ❤


*Photo Credit: Photo by Michael Dziedzic on Unsplash