Harsh Words: Poetry From The Souls of Life

06/07/2026

ROOFTOP BANDIT

My heart stopped.
I swear I forgot how to breathe for a second.

There she stood, on top of the
damn roof,
looking proud of herself like
she
had just conquered Everest.

Meanwhile, I was already planning how I was going to explain to the neighbors why my dog was reenacting an action movie.

"Indie!"
Nothing.
"Get in this house!"
Nothing.

Just that look.
That stubborn, hard-headed, completely unimpressed look.

So I did what any reasonable person would do.
I started bargaining.
"Go back through the window."
"Get off the roof."
"And while you're at it, fix my screen."

Still nothing.
Just standing up there like she
owned the place.

Then it hit me.

Your rent is late!

If you're gonna live here,
climb on the roof,
tear up screens,
and scare ten years off my life,

you better start contributing!

At the very least,
you can pay me in kisses,
shed enough fur to knit a blanket,
stop trying to become the neighborhood's
first rooftop pit bull.

Though judging by that face,
she'd already promoted herself to landlord. 😆

© June 6, 2026, By Jodi Harsh, My Harsh Words ™

05/31/2026

PEACE

05/25/2026

THEY SURVIVED

Not everybody who smiles is okay.
Not everybody who shows up is whole.

Some people have survived abuse...
betrayal...
abandonment...
loss...
loneliness...
and battles they never speak about out loud.

Some people learned how to laugh...
while breaking.

Some learned how to comfort others...
while silently praying
someone would notice
they were drowning too.

Some gave their hearts away
over and over...
hoping this time
love would finally feel safe.

And still...
they survived.
Not perfectly.

Not without scars.

Not without exhaustion.

But they survived.

And honestly...
sometimes that alone
is a miracle.

© May 25, 2026, By Jodi Harsh, My Harsh Words ™

05/22/2026

A PIECE OF MY HEART STILL HAS PAWS

Today six years ago
the world inside my house
went quiet

not loud quiet
not empty quiet
the kind of quiet

that steals the soul
out of a room

because your little paws
were no longer tapping
across my kitchen floor

like you owned every inch
of my heart
and maybe you did

Precious
you were never
“just a dog”

you were shotgun rides
windows cracked open
sunshine on your face
blacktop naps
followed by cool kitchen floors
like a little toddler
who could never decide
if she wanted in
or out

you were neighbors smiling
before they even knocked
you were Cindy
coming over
just to see you
even though she swore
she didn’t care for dogs

you had that kind of love
the kind that softened people
without them realizing it

I lost part of my heart
the day I let you go
across the rainbow bridge
but I still believe
love that pure
doesn’t just disappear

I believe somehow
you saw me breaking
and sent Indie
to find me

because you knew

I still needed
the sound of paws
the comfort of loyalty
the feeling of being loved
without conditions

and now
through Indie
a piece of you

still runs through this house
still follows me room to room
still reminds me
that the greatest souls
sometimes arrive
with four legs

© May 21, 2026, By Jodi Harsh, My Harsh Words ™

05/09/2026

04/29/2026

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTkbkAWEB/

04/24/2026

Some people classify them as a poet but they're not they're just a quote

04/24/2026

Dear Andrea,

I am writing to share a poem I wrote for you following your visit. I wanted to express my sincere appreciation for the kindness and humanity you showed me.

You Showed Up and Showed Kindness

You knocked
like you’d been here before..
and you had.

Not as a stranger
stepping into something broken,
but as someone who already knew
this place had breath in it.

“My garage door,” I said once,
that kind of call,
the kind nobody wants to make,
and still, you showed up then too.

And you remembered.
“I miss Milo,” you said
like he wasn’t just a cat,
like he was something worth holding onto
after a long shift.

And Indie...
of course you remembered Indie,
but not like small talk,
not like filling silence..
you said it
like it mattered.

And that’s what got me.

Because people pass through my life
like I don’t stick...
like I’m temporary,
like nothing here is worth remembering.

But you came back
carrying pieces of before with you...
Not paperwork.
Not notes.
Memory.

You stood there
kind, laid back, real, so dang real,
like I didn’t have to brace myself,
for what you might take from me.
I asked you,
“Are you gonna take me to jail?”
Because that’s how life feels lately...
like everything’s one step away
from being taken.

You said no.
Just here to check on you.

And something in me
finally unclenched.

I told you about the bills,
the weight,
everything stacking higher than breath...
and you didn’t try to fix me.
You just stayed human.

You said,
“I don’t really like people…
but this is my job, and I love it.

When I get off work, I decompress.”
And somehow that made it better...
because it was honest,
because you weren’t pretending
to be anything more
than a person doing her best
in a hard world.

And still...
you were kind.
Not forced.
Not fake.
Real.

You didn’t come to take.
You didn’t come to judge.
You didn’t come to make me smaller
than everything I’m carrying.

You came in,
remembered my animals,
remembered this space,
and reminded me...
I’m still here
as a person.

Andrea...
I don’t know your last name,
don’t know your life outside that uniform...

but I know this:
You walked in twice,
and both times
you left something behind
that wasn’t heavy.

You left something softer.
Something steady.
Something that felt like…
love.

A piece of God
in a moment that needed it.

A piece of yourself
you didn’t have to give...
but did.

And it made me proud.
Because my dad was a firefighter.
Because I know what it means
to show up for people
when they’re at their worst.

And to know
people like you
still exist...
means something.

Best regards,

04/24/2026
Jodi Harsh
My Harsh Words ™

04/05/2026

APRIL, ALWAYS

April 14...
not a date,
a doorway.

The day a woman came into this world
carrying futures in her bones
she didn’t even know she’d have to bleed for.

My Momma...
before she was “Mom,”
before she was tired,
before life took its swings at her
she was just a girl
stepping into a world
that would one day make her
everything to me.

And somehow…
through whatever she endured,
whatever she swallowed,
whatever tried to break her...
she still chose to give life.

She chose me.

Think about that...
in a world that can be so damn cruel,
she still became the reason
I exist at all.

Without her,
there is no first cry with my name in it,
no arms to hold me when I didn’t understand pain yet,
no proof that I came from something
strong enough to survive.

I am not random.
I am not an accident drifting through space.
I am a continuation
of a woman
who lived long enough
to bring me here.

April 14...
is the day my life was decided
before I ever took a breath.
And I carry her,
my Momma,
in my blood,
in my fight,
in every time I refuse to disappear
even when it would be easier.

She is not just my mother,
she is the reason
I have a voice to scream with,
a heart that still dares to feel,
and a soul that refuses
to die quietly.

© April 4, 2026, By Jodi Harsh, My Harsh Words ™