The Becoming Of Ms. Butterfly Genesis

The Sp There’s a different kind of silence that shows up when someone who used to be consistent… isn’t anymore. Not loud.Not dramatic.Just… quiet. And somehow, that quiet feels louder than anything else. For a while, there was a rhythm.Daily check-ins.Conversations that made the day feel a little lighter.A presence that didn’t need to be… — read more

Sometimes life does something unexpected. Someone from your past reaches out after years, and suddenly you find yourself sitting in conversations that feel strangely familiar. Not because nothing changed. But because everything did. Recently I’ve found myself talking with someone who once knew me in another chapter of my life. We’ve stayed up late just… — read more

When the Culture Forgets Its Codes Hip-hop has always thrived on tension. Competition built the genre. Clashes sharpened lyricism. Ego fueled greatness. But somewhere along the way, the rules blurred. There used to be lines. You challenged the man. You challenged the bars. You challenged the catalog. You didn’t challenge the mother. You didn’t challenge… — read more

Someone from my past walked back into my life. Not with flowers. Not with apologies. Not with some grand explanation. Just presence. And I’ll be honest — the chemistry is still there. The late-night calls. The intellectual foreplay. The tension that doesn’t need touching to exist. It’s easy to get swept up in that. Old… — read more

It calls after midnight and stays until sunrise. The kind of conversation that makes you glow. The kind that reminds you why you once cared. The kind that stimulates your mind instead of your body. And for a moment, it feels easy. Familiar. Safe. But growth has memory. I remember showing up once. I remember… — read more

The phone’s sound startled me. Not because it was loud—But because it was you. Your name appearedlike a headline I thought I’d already read. For a secondI convinced myself it had to be wrong.A glitch.An old memory resurfacing. But then you said, “Hello.” And my body paused. Not panic.Not longing. Just pause. Like a chapter… — read more

I just finished watching Eric Dane: Famous Last Words on Netflix, and it made me think about what my last words to the world would be. One thing I know for sure — they would not be filled with sadness. Even on my last day, I would want to encourage someone. I would want my… — read more

There was a time I thought becoming a woman meant arriving somewhere. Arriving at confidence.Arriving at stability.Arriving at a version of myself that no longer questioned anything. But that’s not how it works. Being a woman isn’t about arrival.It’s about evolution. It’s about learning how to hold softness and strength in the same body.It’s about… — read more

Why do we think hiding is the safest answer for everything? When I chose to hide from the world, I wasn’t just hiding from people. I was hiding from myself. From my voice. From my reactions. From the parts of me that were louder than I knew how to handle. It felt easier to shrink… — read more

Six years.I don’t know how it’s been six years. I don’t know where the time went. All I know is that something in me has been missing ever since you left, and no amount of time has filled that space. Some days I can function. Some days I don’t even realize how much I’m carrying.… — read more

I never mailed this, never pressed “send,” but it lives here, between my ribs and the quiet glow of the screen. To the ones who held me steady when I was unraveling, to the voices that reminded me I was more than my shadows— thank you. You came along, not to fix me, but to… — read more

Signed, An unsent letter from me to me 🌙✨ By:Ms.Butterfly Genesis — read more

It’s strange how little words can change how and why I keep looking at things. A sentence, a pause, a lowercase “ok”—they rearrange the whole memory. I saw myself having specific conversations with you. I rehearsed, softened, and made them poetic in my head, but I never allowed myself to see how they would end,… — read more

Dear Ms. Butterfly Genesis, I’m sorry. I know that sounds strange coming from me—to me—but I mean it. I mean it in every way a heart can mean something. I’m sorry for the years I spent believing I had to earn love by being flawless. For the way I buried my own needs beneath the… — read more

I used to react without thinking. Say things. Do things. Just to feel seen. Just to feel heard. I thought if I was loud enough, broken enough, beautiful enough— Someone would understand me. Maybe even you. But now I’ve had time. Time to sit with myself. Time to listen to the silence I used to… — read more

to: the version of you I used to needsent: neverwritten: with a whole heart Unbelievable how scary it was at times.But today, I smiled. Not nervously. Not out of habit. Just a smile that warmed my heart and soul. I don’t know when it happened.I don’t know how.I don’t even know why.But I finally detached… — read more

I feel stupid even putting pen to paper with this, but it’s the only way to let it out. My birthday’s on Thursday. And while I’m grateful for health and longevity, a part of me still quietly wishes for something else—his acknowledgment. Just a sign that he knows I’m still here. Still breathing and still… — read more

For the woman who stayed Thursday isn’t just a date. It’s a pulse. A breath I didn’t know I’d still be taking. A milestone I carved with trembling hands when no one was watching— not even me. I didn’t think I’d be here this long. Not for one reason. Not for ten. But I’m here.… — read more

I hadn’t thought about you in a while. I’ve learned to tuck specific memories into quiet corners, not because you don’t matter. But today, while cleaning my room, I found something that pulled you right back into the center of my thoughts. It was a list. Our list. The one we made of things we’d… — read more

She writes this one for the days ahead—for the version of herself she’s still becoming. She will not shrink. She will not apologize for her light. She will wear her story like armor and silk. And when the world asks her to be small, She will answer with a mural. She knows that real love… — read more

Though you’ll never see this, I’m glad to tell you I’m succeeding.Not in the way you might have imagined: chasing fame, fortune, or validation.I’m succeeding in the quiet, sacred way.By finding the invisible pieces of myself.By putting them back together.By becoming whole again. I’m becoming the woman I always knew I could be,even when doubt—especially… — read more

Not out of spite. Not to prove anything to you.But in devotion to myself.To the girl who used to whisper dreams into the dark,and to the woman who now speaks them aloud,without apology. I used to trace your absence like a scar.Now I wear it like a medal.Proof that I endured.Proof that I evolved.Proof that… — read more

I am Ms. Butterfly Genesis.Trademarked not just in name, but in spirit.I rose from pages never sent,from love that broke and rebuilt me—wings stitched with rhythm, roots, and fire. I am the poem that walks,the art that speaks,the power chair that rolls through NYC like a crown.Every nail, every heel, every flag color—intentional.Dominican pride, urban… — read more

Monday Thoughts Well, it’s Monday. And my thoughts are always with you. But this Monday feels different. Like the difference that makes me reach for my phone before I remember I can’t. Not like I used to. Not like when you were here. I wanted to reach out. Needed to. But instead, I’m pouring the… — read more

She used to think she was broken. For years, she wore armor so heavy it became part of her skin—crafted from silence, survival, and the belief that hiding was safer than healing. She didn’t face the world because she didn’t have to. No one pushed her. Avoidance felt easier than confrontation, and for 43 years,… — read more

She used to whisper her worries into the wind,hoping someone would catch them,translate them into answers,or at least into softer days. She used to count complaints like rosary beads—each one a prayer for a life she hadn’t yet lived,a version of herself she hadn’t yet met. But lately, she’s been quiet.Not silent.Just… still.Listening to the… — read more

I wish I could talk to you—Or more than that.Not just words,but the ache behind them.It’s out there now,for the world to see.But you?You never saw me. I wish you understoodwhere I came from—How the noise, the fighting,could’ve quietedIf you’d just listened.If you’d just heard meBefore I had to write it down. So I use… — read more

No shame in my game.I asked for help—not because I was weak,but because I was ready.Ready to rise.Ready to shed the version of methat settled for survivaland step into the oneWho demands joy? Asking isn’t a weakness.It’s a mirror.It’s a door.It’s a dare to becomeWho you were always meant to be. I took what was… — read more

I wore steel to sleep,dreamt in chainmail lullabies,shielded from the sting of my reflection. Every choice I didn’t cradle,Every path I didn’t choose with love—I punished myself for both. So I built a fortress,not to keep the world out,But to keep me from touching myself. But armor rusts.It grows heavy with years.And softness waits beneath… — read more

You’ve been in this transition for a while now—stretching, shedding, becoming. And I need you to pause momentarily and feel the weight of that truth: you’ve come far not just in miles or milestones, but in the quiet, internal revolutions that no one sees but you. I’m proud of you. Proud of the way you’ve… — read more

I almost said it—The words curled like smokebehind my teeth,soft as surrender,sharp as truth. I almost kept the photographs.Each one a shrineto the version of methat loved youmore than she loved her reflection. But I deleted them.Not in rage,not in haste—But in the ceremony. Each click is a quiet funeralFor the girl who waitedto be… — read more

I’m not gonna hold you today. Not in thought, wish, or the soft ache of maybe. I folded that longing into yesterday’s sky and let it drift— not as a prayer, But as a release. I’m okay. I say it like a mantra, like a rhythm, I’ve learned to dance to even when the music… — read more

Miss Butterfly Genesis I’ve always known. From the moment I took my first breath, I carried the truth like armor: I can do whatever I put my mind to. Every “no” they tried to hand me, I turned into a “yes” they couldn’t ignore. Every doubt they cast on me only gave me fuel. They… — read more

We should never whisper joyor dress love in excuses.If laughter finds us in someone’s arms,Why tuck it under shame?Let our happiness be loud,be proud—be butterfly-wing brilliant.No more sorryfor the sunlight we choose. By: Ms. Butterfly Genesis — read more

Fear has held me back from the most profound, most transformative experiences. It’s not just an emotion—it’s the shadow that dims my potential. But I know now that growth and fulfillment are waiting on the other side of that fear. Love is not simple, and that’s what makes it extraordinary. It’s layered, complex, unpredictable—just like… — read more

I had no idea what becoming Ms. Butterfly Genesis would becomeI had no expectations—Because no expectations means no letdownI just knewI had to do somethingfor menot for anybody elseBut for me’cause I needed an outlet I didn’t know what it was gonna beI just knewI had to do somethingfor menot for anybody elseBut for me’cause… — read more

I ride the rails of a storm-spun soul,tested by flames, I swore I’d tame.The world asked me to rise,But I curled beneath the weight of “not yet.” My mind stands sharp—unbothered,a fortress built on I-don’t-care-anymore.But my heart?She clings to threads like lifelines,prays in bruised whispersthat nothing else shatters. Impossibility isn’t the truth;It is just fear… — read more

You’re out there chasing your forever.And I’m learning how to find my nameWithout your shadow in the mirrorOr pieces of you in my flame You thanked me for not believing.That I could break or start anewYou loved me like I was unchangingA ghost of a girl hiding from view I held on to the dream,… — read more

“Time for the Woman Becoming”I cradle quietly like a mirror—not to vanish,But to see myself. In the hush, I meet myself:a woman wanting it all,not in greed,But in grace—Love that steadies,arms that staywhen nothing else does. I gift myself these hours—soft rebellionsagainst a world that rushes.I listen for my namebeneath the noise.I name myself anewIn… — read more

My brain won’t sleepIt paces, barefoot and bleeding,down hallways of maybethrough doors marked, remember I asked it to be quiet,but it made noise in new languages.Logic, they call it. Impulse in drag.It spins too fast to ask permission. I want to love the part of meThat never needs evidence.Just feeling. the whole flood,not the broken… — read more

“Time for the Woman Becoming”I cradle quietly like a mirror—not to vanish,But to see myself. In the hush, I meet myself:a woman wanting it all,not in greed,But in grace—Love that steadies,arms that staywhen nothing else does. I gift myself these hours—soft rebellionsagainst a world that rushes.I listen for my namebeneath the noise.I name myself anewIn… — read more

Under the vinyl moon, I whisper:“Is it love or just a hunger for the ghost of you?” In the silent corners of my heart,memories echo and collide—a soft, desperate longingtangled with the ache of what will never be. Am I a prisoner of endless questions,an overthinker adrift in a sea of might-have-been?Or does every pulse… — read more

I will do my best to be honest and loyal to myself, speaking a language of truth that leaves no room for compromise. I will give the best of me, knowing that the first and most important commitment I can ever make is to nurture the heart I call my own. Today, I stand at… — read more

It’s easy to claim the title,harder to earn the name—late nights, early mornings,hands that shape and guide a flame. We call them superheroes,The ones who stay, who teach,Who builds love brick by brick,Who answers every call? If I could think of my father,He’d be my first love,The one who taught me love—But instead, I look… — read more

The mind whispers,a truth carved months ago,But the heart—stubborn, slow—waits for the photograph,for proof in ink and light,for the ache to settle in its ribs. It was real,long before my eyes confirmed it,But I only felt the breakWhen the silence turned heavy,When my chest tightened,When all I could doI was listening to a song louderThen… — read more

A photograph—a mere flicker,Yet it carves a shadow in my heart,Reminding me that healing is no straight path,But a tapestry of scars and soft reprieves. In that still frame,I see a whisper of all I’ve endured,A question echoing: can a captured glanceUnravel the stitches of my mending soul? Yet, I resolve—each flash of memory.It is… — read more

I wake with weight, unnamed and wide,a fog that sits where hope should hide.No wound to trace, no clear regret,echoes I can’t quite yet. My mind demands a neat reply,a name, a cause, a reason why—But sometimes sorrow has no script,Just silent tides the soul can’t grip. Ms. Butterfly Genesis — read more

All day, I chase silence,But silence refuses me.Not knowing if you are whole,If I still linger inside you,If memory serves, I cannot see. I tell myself—let the past rest,let the present be a present,Let the future write its name.But the wanting persists,pulls at my ribs,presses against my skin. You were quiet,The calm in my trembling,The… — read more

It didn’t hit me until today—The hollow where your name used to sit,The silence where my fingers once knew the rhythmof dialing you just because. For a while, your profile was enough—a phantom of presence, a lingering thread.But now, the echoes have emptied,no image, no trace,just a void where you once were. Am I chasing… — read more

In the silent arena of self, There exists a muscle stronger than steel—a restless mind that sings or strikes,Weaving our truths with every beat. When doubt casts shadows at midnight,It spawns a thousand winding questions,detouring our words and essence,challenging the core of our existence. They urge, “Be stronger than your thoughts,”a call to quell the… — read more

Spilling words onto paper and carving meaning into linesis not foolishness—it is courage. It is reaching through silence,finding a place where no voice says, I don’t believe you,where no ear turns away, impatient for action alone. Some build worlds with hands, some with footsteps,Some with quiet ink bleeding into parchment.You know he will never read… — read more

In the quiet hours before dawn,I search the fading horizon for your glow—a beautiful angel adrift in celestial hues,whispering guidance through the murmur of my heart. I pen my confessions on fragile paper,Each word is a plea cast into the vast unknown.How I long for your presence—to have you near,to help me decipher this tangled… — read more

In the quiet language of farewell, we ask—How can we articulate the finality of goodbyeWhen every parting sigh cradles a lifetime of shared moments?A tapestry of joy, sorrow, and whispered confessions—woven so deeply into our souls thatTo sever this thread feels like unraveling our very essence. Yet, in that bittersweet parting, there lies a tender… — read more

My mind wanders through dim-lit corridors, asking silently—Do they think of meor harbor the desireI once poured out like whispered secrets?* I remember a time when longing spun its delicate web, when I craved him with a fierce, desperate certainty—now, my heart bears the weight of its echo, a cruel punishment etched deep into my… — read more

I stand as a womancrafted of resilience and desire—not defined solely by a chair,nor by the devices that help me rise each day.They sometimes look with pity,a straightforward narrative of sorrow and limitation,When, honestly, they should askabout the vast, untold story within. What is “normal” anyway?No life fits a neat mold,No one escapes the raw… — read more

I once wandered these crowded streetschasing fleeting nods and whispered applause,Each face a mirror reflecting a part of meI thought, defined by the world’s gaze. In every gentle smile, every hesitant hand—I sought validation that slipped awaylike autumn leaves carried on an indifferent wind,a reminder that no crowd could ever hold me whole. Now, in… — read more

I press my fingers against the veinswhere his name used to bloom,scratching at syllables that cling like ivy—unwanted, unyielding. I whisper to my body: exhale.Let the letters unravel,let the roots shrivel beneath my skin,let me breathe without his ghostsettling in my lungs. No more running.Just healing.Just reclamation.Just air that belongs to me. Ms. Butterfly Genesis — read more

Another late-night mine is running—a torrent of verses unboundin the quiet hum of sleepless hours.I don’t know where these words will settle,but they must find their final restfor me to taste the peace beyond the flareof yesterday’s burning reflections. My thoughts, restless as city lights on darkened streets,linger on his fading silhouette—each memory a whisper,… — read more

I trace the outlines of transformation,but my hands falter at the seams—how do I shed the weight of yesterdaywhen it has wrapped itself around my ribslike a shelter, like a cage? I say I want to be new,but the old whispers back,soft and familiar,its echoes laced with fear,with comfort disguised as chains. Still, the wind… — read more

I want to bewho I was always meant to be—unapologetically whole,a force, a light, a knowing. No longer measured by whispersor bound by borrowed beliefs,I build so I can grow,understand so I can move. The door that fears locked—I open wide,let in every chance,let go of every doubt,Meet the woman staring back—and finally, she is… — read more

I should feel relieved—They say healing is freedom,But part of me is still cagedby the ghosts of who they said I should be. I was a reflection in their eyes,a version of myself sculpted by whispers,until I could no longer seeThe outline of my existence. I have given away too much,let hands shape me,let voices… — read more

She was never there in the delivery room,yet her arms held steady through every storm.No name on the birth certificate,but in the heart, etched, unwavering, strong. Mothers are woven not just through lineage,but through love fierce enough to shape a soul.A whisper of wisdom in sleepless nights,a hand reaching out when the world feels cold.… — read more

Scattered Pieces A jigsaw mind, edges frayed,scattered pieces—none that stay.Shapes collide, but don’t belong,a silent storm, a muted song. Hands reach out but touch the air,words dissolve before they’re there.I am here but not complete.A puzzle is missing parts of me. Still, in fragments, light can seepthrough broken gaps, and the soul still speaks.Not every… — read more

The Unthinkable’s Whisper I asked the unthinkable—a question born of a feeling too fierce to silence.A woman’s intuition, that wild inner compass,urged me forth, regardless of the pain it might bring. I trusted that quiet knowing,believing in its honest, if ruthless, guidance;despite warnings whispered in caution,I pressed on because when our hearts speak, we must… — read more

Marriage is so much more than vows wrapped in lace,more than the sparkle, the guests, the grand embrace.It’s the quiet work, the steady climb,the dance of two souls learning to intertwine. To be one, yet remain whole,to give, yet guard the depths of the soul.Each day, there is a lesson, each step is a test,and… — read more

Three years to mend what time had carved,Seventeen years of echoes, unstarved.I poured transparency like rain,Yet the past refused to drain. We lived yesterday, never today,God gave a door, but we stayed in the hallway.And when the storm came crashing through,I found myself whispering sorry—again, anew. Wanting so deeply, my grip turned tight,Love is fragile… — read more

They say,“If they wanted to, they would.”As if desire were a simple threadpulled tight between two souls.As if absence were proofthat I do not exist in their world. But I search anyway,trace names onto the wind,place my own heart into handsthat never reached for me. My mind whispers sense—tells me I am whole without them,without… — read more

Dear SelfI don’t know where to begin,I don’t know where to end,But I know these words must flow.For every single thing I’ve ever told youDeserves to echo back, to remind you—You’re smart, you’re driven,You’re outspoken, fearless,Unyielding in pursuit of what you want. You crave a life only you can build,A dream shaped by your own… — read more

Tears linger just behind my eyes, Not born of rage nor sorrow’s disguise. But of comfort, strange and unplanned moments shared with the one who first held my hand. She was unyielding, with words sharp and bare, no cushioning of feelings, and no room for despair. “Rid yourself of these emotions,” she sternly declares, “Life… — read more

The mind knows the road ahead,winding, marked, resolute.It whispers, “No looking back,no turning to what once was.” But the heart, that tender rebel,clutches the shards of yesterday,a curator of could-have-been,despite the mouth’s wayward truths. To feel needed, to feel wanted,to be loved—these are not sins.They are echoes of being human,the language of every fragile heart.… — read more

Standing firm is knowing and understanding who I am and who I’m not willing to be just because it’s easier for him. Standing firm is knowing I’m a woman, not an object of his choice, and when he chooses to play. Standing firm also means understanding that I’m not perfect and that I’m going to… — read more

Today is one of those days where he is overpowering my thoughts with the thoughts of a damn; I wish I could hear his voice. His voice could calm my anxiety in my brain or just the desire my body feels for him. I chose not too long ago to no longer be that broken… — read more

I am stuck in my head, so I have not been able to place my thoughts on paper. I should be able to unblock myself by putting myself on paper, but not even a blank piece can help me find myself. The struggle is real. I am, sadly, in my way, with a one-track mind… — read more

The journey of parenthood is indeed complex and deeply personal. It’s a path that often involves immense sacrifice and selflessness, as many parents prioritize their children’s needs above their own. The sentiment you’ve expressed acknowledges the profound dedication and love a parent can have for their child, sometimes at the cost of their own identity… — read more

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Sometimes the words we need to say,Are the hardest ones to speak,For fear of pain that may relay,The memories that we seek. But in the silence, hearts may yearn,For closure and for peace,It’s through our voices we discern,The way to sweet release. So take a breath, let go of fear,And speak from deep inside,For honesty… — read more