Tabatha Franklin
@itstabathafranklin.bsky.social
Wife, teacher, writer, non-fiction editor, crafter, MK girl 💄
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February 4, 2025 at 12:45 PM
Come save money on Fetch with me! Sign up w/ code 48WK54 & get 2,000 pts: referral.fetch.com/vvv3/referra.... See you there!
Starting my Saturday off right 💗 #booklover
January 18, 2025 at 4:14 PM
Starting my Saturday off right 💗 #booklover
My house smells like banana bread and that makes me so happy ♥️
December 7, 2024 at 1:31 PM
My house smells like banana bread and that makes me so happy ♥️
Her hands craft kindness, her words weave care,
But echoes of thanks are too seldom there.
She bends and she mends, through burdens and tears,
Her value unnoticed, for years upon years.
In her quiet mind, she ponders the cost,
Of giving her all, yet feeling so lost.
But echoes of thanks are too seldom there.
She bends and she mends, through burdens and tears,
Her value unnoticed, for years upon years.
In her quiet mind, she ponders the cost,
Of giving her all, yet feeling so lost.
November 24, 2024 at 9:39 PM
Her hands craft kindness, her words weave care,
But echoes of thanks are too seldom there.
She bends and she mends, through burdens and tears,
Her value unnoticed, for years upon years.
In her quiet mind, she ponders the cost,
Of giving her all, yet feeling so lost.
But echoes of thanks are too seldom there.
She bends and she mends, through burdens and tears,
Her value unnoticed, for years upon years.
In her quiet mind, she ponders the cost,
Of giving her all, yet feeling so lost.
Reposted by Tabatha Franklin
In case you haven’t heard it from us here yet, ballast is always free and always open for submissions 🗣️
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www.ballastjournal.com
November 19, 2024 at 6:55 PM
In case you haven’t heard it from us here yet, ballast is always free and always open for submissions 🗣️
www.ballastjournal.com/submit
www.ballastjournal.com/submit
Her mirror whispers sweet delight,
Reflecting beauty bathed in light.
But past the gloss and powdered hue,
Lies something none would dare pursue.
Her words, like thorns, can pierce the air,
A soul untouched by love or care.
Her laughter cold, her kindness thin,
A hollow shell resides within.
#poetry
Reflecting beauty bathed in light.
But past the gloss and powdered hue,
Lies something none would dare pursue.
Her words, like thorns, can pierce the air,
A soul untouched by love or care.
Her laughter cold, her kindness thin,
A hollow shell resides within.
#poetry
November 16, 2024 at 2:52 PM
Her mirror whispers sweet delight,
Reflecting beauty bathed in light.
But past the gloss and powdered hue,
Lies something none would dare pursue.
Her words, like thorns, can pierce the air,
A soul untouched by love or care.
Her laughter cold, her kindness thin,
A hollow shell resides within.
#poetry
Reflecting beauty bathed in light.
But past the gloss and powdered hue,
Lies something none would dare pursue.
Her words, like thorns, can pierce the air,
A soul untouched by love or care.
Her laughter cold, her kindness thin,
A hollow shell resides within.
#poetry
Laughter at noon, hollow by night,
Promises whispered, lost in the fight.
A steady hand and a blurred line—
One more drink to get me by.
Behind the glass, a story told,
Of silent battles, growing old.
Functioning, hiding, going unseen,
A quiet storm, yet I seem serene.
#apoemaday #writing
Promises whispered, lost in the fight.
A steady hand and a blurred line—
One more drink to get me by.
Behind the glass, a story told,
Of silent battles, growing old.
Functioning, hiding, going unseen,
A quiet storm, yet I seem serene.
#apoemaday #writing
November 14, 2024 at 12:26 AM
Laughter at noon, hollow by night,
Promises whispered, lost in the fight.
A steady hand and a blurred line—
One more drink to get me by.
Behind the glass, a story told,
Of silent battles, growing old.
Functioning, hiding, going unseen,
A quiet storm, yet I seem serene.
#apoemaday #writing
Promises whispered, lost in the fight.
A steady hand and a blurred line—
One more drink to get me by.
Behind the glass, a story told,
Of silent battles, growing old.
Functioning, hiding, going unseen,
A quiet storm, yet I seem serene.
#apoemaday #writing
We danced in shadows, soaked in rain, Both drawn to thrill and searing pain.
Each clash, a spark, each word, a wound-
Our love a tempest, dark and doomed.
And when it passed, I stood alone,
The skies now calm, the silence grown. A storm once fierce, now dead and old.
#apoemaday
Each clash, a spark, each word, a wound-
Our love a tempest, dark and doomed.
And when it passed, I stood alone,
The skies now calm, the silence grown. A storm once fierce, now dead and old.
#apoemaday
November 13, 2024 at 3:12 AM
We danced in shadows, soaked in rain, Both drawn to thrill and searing pain.
Each clash, a spark, each word, a wound-
Our love a tempest, dark and doomed.
And when it passed, I stood alone,
The skies now calm, the silence grown. A storm once fierce, now dead and old.
#apoemaday
Each clash, a spark, each word, a wound-
Our love a tempest, dark and doomed.
And when it passed, I stood alone,
The skies now calm, the silence grown. A storm once fierce, now dead and old.
#apoemaday
A girl with a smile and coffee in hand,
Her mornings are bright, her days well-planned.
Her joy brews strong in the soft dawn’s sight.
With each warm sip, her worries fade,
In that rich aroma, dreams are made.
From latte love to espresso cheer,
She finds her peace, her spark, right here.
#poetryidea
Her mornings are bright, her days well-planned.
Her joy brews strong in the soft dawn’s sight.
With each warm sip, her worries fade,
In that rich aroma, dreams are made.
From latte love to espresso cheer,
She finds her peace, her spark, right here.
#poetryidea
November 10, 2024 at 10:35 PM
A girl with a smile and coffee in hand,
Her mornings are bright, her days well-planned.
Her joy brews strong in the soft dawn’s sight.
With each warm sip, her worries fade,
In that rich aroma, dreams are made.
From latte love to espresso cheer,
She finds her peace, her spark, right here.
#poetryidea
Her mornings are bright, her days well-planned.
Her joy brews strong in the soft dawn’s sight.
With each warm sip, her worries fade,
In that rich aroma, dreams are made.
From latte love to espresso cheer,
She finds her peace, her spark, right here.
#poetryidea
I leave my mark in hues unseen,
a thread of warmth, a hidden sheen,
In woven paths, a pulse will sing,
of kindness bright, a softening,
It’s strong and clear – a light, refined,
etched in lines both bold and kind,
an echo I don’t mean to send,
a print of care without an end.
♥️
#poetry
a thread of warmth, a hidden sheen,
In woven paths, a pulse will sing,
of kindness bright, a softening,
It’s strong and clear – a light, refined,
etched in lines both bold and kind,
an echo I don’t mean to send,
a print of care without an end.
♥️
#poetry
November 8, 2024 at 3:58 AM
I leave my mark in hues unseen,
a thread of warmth, a hidden sheen,
In woven paths, a pulse will sing,
of kindness bright, a softening,
It’s strong and clear – a light, refined,
etched in lines both bold and kind,
an echo I don’t mean to send,
a print of care without an end.
♥️
#poetry
a thread of warmth, a hidden sheen,
In woven paths, a pulse will sing,
of kindness bright, a softening,
It’s strong and clear – a light, refined,
etched in lines both bold and kind,
an echo I don’t mean to send,
a print of care without an end.
♥️
#poetry