Rosalind Steed, Halifax, NS (2026)

09/11/2026

Sometimes life keeps handing us the same lesson until we finally stop and ask a different question.
This piece is for anyone who’s ever felt stuck in a loop,blaming life, blaming people, blaming the past — and finally realizing the real shift starts from within.

Why me

Why is this happening to me
Everything goes wrong
Same dance, same song
Same script I keep dragging along

It’s not my fault — it never could be
Life just picks me out specifically
Over and over, the same tragedy
I swear the universe has it out for me

Maybe it’s my mom, maybe it’s my dad
For not giving me the kushy life I should’ve had
Maybe it’s fate, maybe it’s the past
Maybe I’m cursed with a shadow that lasts

Every ex left me, every ex lied
Every ex broke me and never tried
I stay the same — they’re the ones insane
They just needed someone to carry their blame

But here I am, stuck in the part I play
Rehearsing the same lines day after day
Pointing at everyone else in the frame
Never noticing I could be the one to blame.

Maybe the question ain’t “Why me?”
Maybe it’s “Why do I cling to this story?”
Maybe the victim I crown as my truth
Is just the version of me that’s scared of the proof

And maybe the moment everything shifts
Is when I stop waiting for life to fix it
When I stop handing out blame like gifts
And finally stand up in my own skin — legit.

by Rosalind P. Steed

Reflection Time:

What story have you been repeating that might be holding you back from who you’re becoming?

What’s one shift you could make today that would change the direction of your story?

If this spoke to you, I’m guiding a 12‑week journey where we go deeper into this kind of inner work.
Comment info or DM me and I’ll share the details.

09/01/2026

Diagnosis‑CPTSD / Prescription‑Me

I thought I was going crazy.
Every bad thing that ever happened to me
kept coming to mind—
it was my life,
over and over,
on rewind.

The doctor said,
“Take these pills.
Numb your pain,
and keep coming to me
over and over again.”

The pills?
Side effects stacked.
This one, that one—
I gave them back.

This same doctor,
in her first years, said:
“Eight minutes of exercise
will take that depression away.”
I kept that in my thoughts
until this day.

Meditation to train my mind—
it took the button off rewind.
Praying to God
and listening to His frequency
made me see
who I was truly meant to be.

No one could see my thoughts.
I had to be my own best friend—
telling myself
I wasn’t going crazy,
over and over again.

Because if I didn’t forgive,
if I didn’t let go,
there was no way
my soul could grow.

I thought “crazy,”
but what I was going through
was the dark night of the soul—you see
a sacred unraveling
that set my spirit free.

by Rosalind P. Steed

Forgiveness isn’t about forgetting — it’s about freeing your spirit so it can finally grow.

If this resonates, I welcome you into Awakening With Poetry, where we explore healing, identity, and soul‑level transformation through guided reflection.

👉 Learn more and sign up:
https://www.skool.com/awakening-with-poetry-7578/

08/26/2026

Always With the Animals

Animals were always my friends.
When I was alone,
they were the ones who stayed.
I loved them, and they loved me too.
If I wasn’t around animals, I never felt safe.
The feeling of fur was the feeling of home.
With animals I truly never felt alone.

Every allowance I got turned into a goldfish,
a hamster, something small to hold tight.
And my mom always let me have a cat—
she knew animals made my world feel right.
I used to sit in the back of the vet clinic,
greeting every animal that came through the door
with a little pat, wishing I could do even more.

I fixed a few broken wings,
helped after animal attacks,
saved a couple of dogs along the way—
but my heart always wanted to give more back.

Then came the bottle babies—
tiny mouths, tiny cries,
one by one by one.
So cute, so sweet,
but overwhelming when life still had to run.

And then a thought rose up in my mind:
there has to be a way
to feed more than one at a time,
to help the people who save the day.
I couldn’t let that idea slip away.

So here I am with STEED’S Baby Bottle Bed,
made for the caregivers who give so much.
This is my way of saying
I see you,
I get it,
and I’m right here with you—
in heart, in memory, in touch.

🗓️ Launching August 31, 2026 on Indiegogo
💖 Support us on Indiegogo:
https://www.indiegogo.com/en/projects/rosalindsteed/steed-s-baby-bottle-bed-transform-chaos-into-calm

This is for all the animal caregivers.

08/22/2026

No More Rent‑Free

I let you live inside my mind,
that messed‑up s**t you did on rewind.
Every thought became a doorway,
every memory made me burn.
But these were lessons about you
I just had to learn.

Anger built its little kingdom,
brick by brick inside my chest.
I kept you there without permission,
thinking fury was the best.

You lived rent‑free in all my thinking,
while I paid the cost in peace.
Every moment spent on you
became the price of my release.

But letting someone haunt you,
letting them replay on repeat—
that’s handing over all your power,
that’s choosing your own defeat.

So I’m reclaiming all my space now,
every corner, every key.
Your shadow doesn’t get to linger—
my mind is not your property.
You are now evicted, no more rent free.

I’m done with anger as my anchor,
done with poison, done with pain.
I’m choosing me, forgiveness—
and I won’t hand you that power again.

by Rosalind P. Steed

Sometimes healing means evicting the thoughts that never paid rent.

If this speaks to you, I invite you to join me in Awakening With Poetry for reflective questions and a 12‑week journey back to your soul, through words that heal, reveal, and transform.

👉 Learn more and sign up here:
https://www.skool.com/awakening-with-poetry-7578/

08/17/2026

I Can’t Trust You

I can’t trust you.
I won’t sit around you —
you gossip about everybody,
you’ll gossip about me too.
Have excuses for yourself,
you’ll have them for me too.
I just can’t seem to trust you.

You tell a lie to cover your back,
and I pay attention to all that.
Someone upsets you,
you talk about them to everybody,
put all your drama online —
until you find who agrees
with your point of view,
someone else untrustworthy like you.

You don’t trust yourself
to see it through.
I already know
you won’t have my back
when I’m gonna need you.
You don’t have your own —
you can’t even be trusted alone.

Oh, you’re over there
and want to be here too,
and I’m supposed to trust you.

Hopefully one day
you’ll learn what’s at stake,
before the truth hits you
and it’s too late.

Stand for nothing,
you’ll fall for anything you hear —
and that’s why my trust for you
will never be near.

by Rosalind P. Steed

Sometimes you reach a point where you stop ignoring patterns and start protecting your peace.
This piece is about paying attention, choosing yourself, and stepping away from anything that doesn’t align with trust.

If this speaks to you, I invite you to join me in Awakening With Poetry for reflective questions and a 12‑week journey back to your soul, through words that heal, reveal, and transform.

👉 Learn more and sign up here:
https://www.skool.com/awakening-with-poetry-7578/

08/13/2026

I Owe You

You want to know me for who I may know,
because in some way you think
it might help you grow.

You smile in my face,
talk behind my back —
because if you did it in my face,
this friendship wouldn’t transact.

You did me a favor,
I have to do you ten more,
because in your head
that evens the score.

Who knew you had
such a transactional mind?
Every favor was a debt
disguised as kind.

Your kindness has hidden fees —
they’re in the fine print.
Hand me my glasses, please.

Friendship is trust —
you wouldn’t understand.
You’re too busy tallying transactions,
calling debt owners your clan.

They call it friendship,
but it’s just an ego boost.
They dump their weight on me,
thinking I’ll never cut them loose.

It’s a one‑sided transaction,
I listen all day.
You drain me of energy —
so where is my pay?

Your ledger is full of IOUs,
but friendship isn’t a balance sheet.
One‑up friendship isn’t math,
only goalies take score.

I don’t think I want to know you anymore.
I declare bankruptcy —
your account is closed.
Find someone else
to carry your endless woes.

by Rosalind P. Steed

Friendship isn’t math, and kindness shouldn’t come with hidden fees.

If this speaks to you, I invite you to join me in Awakening With Poetry for reflective questions and a 12‑week journey back to your soul, through words that heal, reveal, and transform.

👉 Learn more and sign up here:
https://www.skool.com/awakening-with-poetry-7578/

08/08/2026

The Devil Who Truly Was an Angel

He called himself the devil
but I saw his light.
Said it like a warning.
But I didn’t flinch.
Because I too worked for the devil—
wore his chains,
spoke his language,
until I learned to unspell myself.

I saw the angel in him—
not fallen, just lost.
Like I was.
I recognized the fear.
The light he still had
but couldn’t hold.

He ran.
Not from me,
but from the mirror I became.
And in his silence,
I heard everything.

I always wanted to be a teacher and dancer.
And with our story,
I taught.
And I danced.

He made us both sad.
But sadness is sacred
when it breaks you open
to your own becoming.

He was an angel.
He just didn’t know.
But I did though.
And through his words and music,
he made my soul grow.

by Rosalind P. Steed

Some stories don’t just break you — they wake you.

If this speaks to you, I invite you to join me in Awakening With Poetry for reflective questions and a 12‑week journey back to your soul, through words that heal, reveal, and transform.

👉 Learn more and sign up here:
https://www.skool.com/awakening-with-poetry-7578/

08/06/2026

I’m Sorry You Feel That Way

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”
what the hell did you say?
Did you really just dismiss my feelings
like they were gonna go away?

Or is that what they taught you
when you don’t know what to say?
You say it like you don’t know
why I feel this way.

They need to rewrite that again,
because a backhanded apology
will only make me explode in the end.

Maybe try another way,
even “I understand you feel that way”
would land better than the line you always say.

Did you just say that to me
because you don’t know accountability?
Because owning the wound
would mean facing the truth—
truth you keep running from,
if we’re talking honestly.

What’s “sorry” supposed to mean
when you don’t even care?
It’s the fakest apology
anybody could ever hear.

Let’s switch it around
and see how it sounds to you.
You know that s**t sounds crazy too.
I’m sorry you feel that way.

You drop that line so easy,
like it wipes your guilt away,
like my feelings are just a burden
you shrug off another day.

you can run from every feeling,
but the truth still wants its say.
And I’m very sorry you feel that way.

by Rosalind P. Steed

A fake apology teaches you more about someone than a real one ever could.

When has someone’s “sorry” felt more like avoidance than accountability?

If this speaks to you, I invite you to join me in Awakening With Poetry for reflective questions and a 12‑week journey back to your soul, through words that heal, reveal, and transform.

👉 Learn more and sign up here:
https://www.skool.com/awakening-with-poetry-7578/

08/01/2026

Bully

I was with you for years,
you brought so many tears.
I walked on eggshells
with so many fears.

So afraid of you,
not knowing you were just a stupid bitch too.
I knew you were insecure,
so your pain
I had to endure.

I thought I couldn’t go,
fear had me frozen—
or at least I thought so.
You beat me black and blue
and I just put make up on
and covered for you.

After I met you,
you went to jail
and I stayed true.
But I knew going back
was a big fear to you.
I never threatened you with that,
because that place
you never wanted to go back.

So I let you bully me instead.
You almost beat me
till I was dead.
But an angel came through—
I still don’t know who—
but he saved me and stopped you.

One day, after so many years,
I said “touch me again
and I’ll put you in jail”.

After that,
I never saw you again.
You took that bail.

So bye.
You’ll bully me no more.
If you ever put your hands on me,
you already know what’s in store.

by Rosalind P. Steed

A man who shrinks you at home already feels small in the world.

If this speaks to you, I invite you to join me in Awakening With Poetry for reflective questions and a 12‑week journey back to your soul, through words that heal, reveal, and transform.

👉 Learn more and sign up here:
https://www.skool.com/awakening-with-poetry-7578/

07/29/2026

Am I Supposed To Disappear?

Do I exist? You ignore me,
but I’m still here. I’ll always be.
Did you think if you ignored me,
I would fade away, disappear?

My voice is loud, my voice is clear,
I’ll never vanish, I don’t disappear —
this isn’t a magic show here.

Even if you waved your wand,
I’ll still be there,
there is no p**f — no disappear.

I won’t be silenced, I still exist,
I won’t dissolve, my blood’s not thin.
I stay true deep within.

You turn your back, pretend I’m gone,
but I remain, I still go on.
You thought my presence might decay,
but I grow stronger every day.

I rise in shadow, rise with fight,
You don’t want me to exist —
just dim my light.

I’ll never vanish, never fear.
I won’t fold until I’m dead,
my story told, my truth is said.
I won’t be silenced — I exist here,
and you’ll never make me disappear.

by Rosalind P. Steed

🎭 A poem about resilience, truth, and refusing to fade away.

If this speaks to you, I invite you to join me in Awakening With Poetry for reflective questions and a 12‑week journey back to your soul, through words that heal, reveal, and transform. 🌱

👉 Learn more and sign up here: https://www.skool.com/awakening-with-poetry-7578/

Rosalind Steed

09/11/2026

09/01/2026

08/26/2026

08/22/2026

08/17/2026

08/13/2026

08/08/2026

08/06/2026

08/01/2026

07/29/2026

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