The truth
got lost
in the maze of justice

Do you feel it too?
Or am I scribbling a madman’s manuscript?
The warmth, the haze—
This feeling of a desperate chase.

Does nature only mock me?
Does it grace you?
The wind caresses the skin of all beings—
Do they call you a pawn
In a mesmerizing scheme?

Or am I just being dreamy?
It is necessary for my heal.
Is it the same, the likewise intuition?
Do you feel, what I feel about this creation
Or is it - crazy guy's manifestation.
Do you feel it too?
What I feel?
Listening to my conscience I scream.

anxiety attack
sweat down my back

sleepless nights
and walking nightmares

I am being followed everywhere,
my own shadows are ahead of me

they lead the way,
and have me doubt
each step, each word, each thought
they crawl from underneath my skin
they mock, they push, they scream

“not good enough “
-again, they bluff

Some people glide through life—
clean suits,
straight spines,
their hands untouched by the dirt
we call home.

And then there’s us.
We shuffle, we stumble,
we laugh too hard at bad jokes
and spend too long staring at walls
that don’t answer back.

Our lives are broken bottles
held together with tape—
still sharp, still dangerous,
but ours.

And if we ever make it—
if we ever find a way to rise,
we’ll leave claw marks on the edge
to remind them
we were here.