There is beauty
in burning
in fire.

Yet in that beauty,
behind that bright blaze
is a pain that must be felt.

A pain that fuels that beauty.
A phoenix born from ash.
A death before rebirth.

Are we cosmic—
Or chaos in disguise?
Our love burned bright,
Yet so does my sorrow—
Like the stars,
Still shining
Long after
They’ve died.

My greatest fear is falling for those eyes twice.

Some departures we choose,
and some departures are forced upon us—
They arrive with the weight of mountains,
practiced in hesitant steps,
as if dragging the entire world behind us.
We move forward a little... then glance back a little,
for behind us lie things, dreams, souls,
to which our hearts remain tethered.