The heaviest sound lays us to rest
Tied to the steak and eats our heart out
Composure fixed to the evening sky
Swivel the scenery then throw me away when I am colored dead
Let's all pose then fall down the well together
Understudies for the part we weren't meant to play
Courage for cowards in the rewriter's chair beating the around the rose bush
Sink thirty thousand feet into the shoes too narrow for human feats.
Back to factory settings until you can learn how to sing let alone speak our names
Caution tape leashes the struggle bus in gear on your best days
One step further than slipping up on a Monday, blue and battered
I wake up to the sight of the out of boundaries shred to pieces
Water for the pills stuck in swallowing fashion
Wings tied to the bed abstract as ever
We dreamt of the rise and fall of the house of us
Blueprints of further disappointment with marble inlays to hold onto this moment
Shock jocks of jealous siblings gnashing at ankles going home
Nostalgic for chaos and that bitter root
I didn't know that I was this obvious
Innocence donated with and without the will to live
Lover, Lover
The nighttime sings our names
Ballads of the figurative Juliet
Radios hiss hearts spilled the shadows hide naked ambition stilled
Neglected emotional hills wafts through valleys of past lives
Karmic backlogs review their closing percentages
Futures flood the floors hold the line between fate and tears
Shadow people alone in the twilight
Illuminated letters, walls woed to sleep
Dreams from the shoreline as phantom vessels waltz on the silver linings
Postures of stable footing, top of the line, kings and queens of value
Thumbs circle the knuckles, bone kisses bone, the familiar taste of home
Haunted hems lines explored in tribal pursuits
Please keep me waiting
The specter of tender frames evaporates
Morning ghosts caress the memory in travel
Neckties versus deadlines
Power brokered, breath that betrays the dream
Folded napkins
Cocktail napkin epitaphs
Check please
you live still
in the blurred polaroids of my mind—
your face dissolving into silver,
mine into someone i cannot quite find.
i loved you once
with the fervour of an unwritten psalm,
and though the wanting has gone quiet,
the love still lingers, warm.
perhaps i miss you;
perhaps i miss the girl who loved you—
the softer version of myself
that time, like winter, outgrew.
we both became strangers
to the people we once knew,
yet i keep your photographs
the way old libraries keep books
whose endings they already knew.
i do not wish to have you again,
nor become who i was before—
i only wish i could tell that girl
she was worth loving, even more.
so let the polaroids remain blurred;
some things are kinder without view—
for sometimes, loving what we lost
means learning to love
who we became too.
I still hear the loud noise
of your quiet footsteps,
marked across unpolished,
weathered wooden floors.
Childhood suppressed expectations,
starved for genuine praise,
dwarfed by the presence
of a silence never broken.
My inner struggles suffocate,
captivated by the hidden door
latched forever
by decaying, hardened paint.
Scars of turmoil refuse to yield,
mercilessly triggered by this prison,
locked by the one key
still held by you.
A stitched fabric of fortitude—
resembling a carved brand of honor—
is the silent hero I grasp for
in moments of aching defiance.
When the weight of unimportance,
and callous neglect,
rears its ugly head,
demanding more
than my essence can endure.
Still, here I am.
Not asking for forgiveness.
Not asking for explanations.
I am letting go,
just like you did.
After all that’s happened
I never sat down to think.
I always wanted to push forward
and never looked back.
Who wants to sit down with pain?
Especially when all it does is hurt you.
It showed me parts of me I don’t like
and I try not to blame you.
Some days I curse you under my breath.
I daydream about if things had worked?
Then I get nightmares about doing that.
I try to think past the what ifs and
Accept what happened between us.
If I had the power to either forget you,
Or make you love me like I love you.
I’d choose to forget you.
Gasoline doesn’t control a dying flame.
You cut me deeply where the wound
Still feels the sear of your burning knife
As it thrusts right into my back,
With smoke burning my throat as it escapes
Despite all the pain, I don’t hold onto it.
Where would there be room for love,
If I choose to keep hating you?
Maybe we could’ve been friends,
If things didn’t turn out this way.
I can’t say I’m glad or upset that
We met under these circumstances.
All I have to say is, thank you
And I wish you good luck with
Everything.
The New Favorite
She looks great in my clothes, atleast that's what everybody says,
Like I wasn't the reason they noticed them in the first place.
She laughs with all my friends like she's always belonged,
I hate that she fits in so fast where it took me so long.
She wears my sweater like she's discovered something rare,
And I spend the whole night pretending I don't care.
She says the same things I used to and somehow they sound brand new,
But maybe everything hits different when it's not coming from you.
And I hate the girl I become whenever she walks in,
Like confidence is something only one of us can win.
And maybe that's the difference that took me years to learn,
She's wearing what I wore, but she can't be the person that i am.
I've spent so long worrying that she's going to take everything from me, that I forgot the one thing she can never have: the person I became because of it.
We loved enough to build a
beautiful home.
We loved enough to let each other go.
May we both find peace in
the quiet after.
Today I came back to a hole
where a home had been
So I made a bed
of all the rubble
There is gravel
digging into my spine
ashes falling
into my eyes
They tell me to move
to go and build a home
somewhere new
as if they were telling me
it's a quarter past two..
Like it's obvious..
Like i'm a fool..
Like a hole is not a home...
But i can't forget when it was.
The things left unsaid
grow heavier through the years,
gathering below
like silt in a riverbed
fills in the refection pool.
Snowball, small at first,
gathers more snow as it rolls.
snowman's tiny nose,
becomes head, then a body,
then a roaring avalanche.
Regrets germinate
as roots grow into the soul
become embedded.
what was 'too few to mention'
is now 'too much to ignore'
Hand touches lightly
then tightens for better grip,
as the wanting grows.
the weight becomes the burden
that is so hard to let go.
Fingers on the ledge
numb and trembling from the strain,
grow inflexible
letting go is now so hard
after all the holding on.
together we stood
behind chrome clouds our sun hid~
night appeared calmly
I’m beauty born of breaking,
a rootless wanderer now~
rolling light through open lands,
teaching you to yield
I'm not ready to let you go, because I love you so.
You found me not so long ago, I'm not ready to let you go.
I see you struggle more every day, needing me more along the way.
They'll be a time when I know that it's time to let you go.
That’s the last time we let Aunt C dress the turkey they said.
We all stared at the beast, dressed in all kinds of thread.
He had on striped tights, his feathers were dyed in a gorgeous way.
Aunt C always goes way over the top, with fashion she loves to play.
Life it seems has its stages,
Each natural and appropriate
At the designated time.
We begin by grasping and holding
And we end by letting go.
Apparently that letting go
Takes a lifetime to learn.
(5/11/26)
eventually the overthinking had stopped
meditation and prayer had settled emotional scores
and bygones became a bright shadow of hope
past performance was no indicator of future success
the Tarot cards merely pictures of a possible path
a fool on a journey of becoming wise and serene
he settled for what was there at this moment
in immense gratitude and with blossoming faith
in his dream he was transported by a yellow convertible
surely a yellow brick road of transformation ahead
and he settled for amber curiosity and anticipation
conversed with Higher Powers to be in absolute charge
he dusted his boots and polished up an experience
that he had not chosen but lead to freedom and mileage
laced his walking shoes and ventured in patience
floodgates had closed once the earthquake diminished
as a rainbow and solemn star in the sky offered guidance
to move on and embrace a waxing moon of departure
destination not yet disclosed one day at a time
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