I sit in the shallows,
knee-deep in water.
The sea is calm
and I am restless —
a heart in the surf.

An unexpected wave
rolls over me,
undermines the sand.
For a moment I lose my breath,
for a moment I’m not sure
I can withstand it.

Then I feel the sun again.
Only salt and sand
remain on my skin.
I have you everywhere,
and I wait for the next wave.

how passed out I am
right now — drunk and hungover
from these bad choices

I stepped out in the world

in search for my place

in the world of colours,

lost, somehow found my way

in the little known world

of literature.

While still surviving

in this world of words,

unsure what my future holds.

It rarely arrives
in a single moment,
it gathers in corners,

in unsaid things,

in nights spent

turned the other way,


in coffee gone cold

while silence fills the room,

in laughter you no longer reach for,

in the twitch of a finger
reaching for a wedding band

that isn’t there,
just skin now,

and the echo of a promise.

it settles in the pause

before your name is spoken,
in the hollow of a drawer

still holding the note I wrote you in 2015
in the way light filters in,
but doesn't quite warm
the space they used to fill.

grief is not the breaking,

it's the habit
of touching absence.

I’ve stared at him
on my worst days
the man in the mirror
who looks like me
but feels like someone else.

I’ve seen the tired eyes,
the clenched jaw,
the quiet that’s heavier
than any shout.
I’ve seen him break
without making a sound.

There were nights
I swore I’d disappear
if I let go for even a second.
Nights where the dark
sat on my chest
and dared me to breathe.

But I kept breathing.
Even when it hurt.
Even when it felt pointless.

I used to miss the version of me
before the disappointments,
before the betrayals,
before I learned
some people only show up
when the road is smooth.

Now…
I move slower,
but I move with intent.
I talk less,
but I talk with weight.
I’ve lost more than I’ve gained,
but what’s left is real.

The man in the mirror
isn’t perfect
but he’s still here.
Still standing.
And every time I doubt him,
he stares back and says,
“We’re not done yet.”