Leaves fall gently, settling in place
Like the lines of your face,
Like the curve of your smile
You rest, gazing out at the pile

Of leaves, where the children play
Young, full of vigor, unaware of the way
Their bones will bend under countless years
Of love and loss, laughter and tears

Like yours have, your beauty gone
Washed away by dusk and dawn.
Until all thats left is a hollow shell
A shadow of the past, when all was once well

You embrace your lonesome journey's end
Solitude; you have nobody to send
You into the eternal clutches of rest, charmed
As Death welcomes you into his arms.

a grassy path beside a road, illuminated by the fleeting glow of a flashlight
the sky, a whorl of deep, royal purple, flecked with stars, so clear, the image you would get if you googled 'milky way'
small animals responding to the light of a lamp, 7 dollars from the local store
cicadas chirping, deafening
a brick wall, mottled, like a piece of raisin toast
a water tank, 8 waterbottles in my arms, filling them one by one
the plastic taste of mosquito repellent in the back of my throat, delirious
COVID tests strewn out in front of me, desperately praying for the second line
a clock hanging over my bed, my only hope, the only thing anchoring me to this world

it says:
4:23 am

3 more hours

i want to go home
but where?

cars race by, a blur
of colours and lights and too-loud sounds
like a monochrome rainbow, paper
crayons, shapeless silhouettes,
the outline of fingers against a silver
beam, shining through
gossamer curtains.

i wake,
sweating, panting, screaming,
horrified, but unsure why
like a blurred photograph
like distant memories
like lost loves.

i wake, but do i?

Expectations are like puppet strings
Hooking around limbs,
Pulling tighter and
Tighter until you
Can’t breathe
Can’t move
Anymore.

Expectations are like a burden to carry
So heavy, so tiring,
But you can’t put it down,
For the fear of dissatisfaction
So you keep carrying it
Until your arms and legs break
Under the pressure.

Crushed dreams are like the pain after the shock
When you crash to the ground
Hoping that it’s all a bad dream
Hoping that you’ll wake up soon.

But it’s not
And it will never be
And the more you try to piece together shards of glass
The more your fingers bleed.

There was once someone who asked me who I was.

I am life, I say. I am joy and tears,
I am wilful blindness and cunning innovation.
I am white, I am black, I am light, I am dark,
I am flesh and meat and blood and bone.

I am ambition and laziness and deception and trust,
I am work and labour and pain.
I am broken promises, words yet spoken,
I am generous and selfish, wise yet a fool.

I am human.

Your words brush off my shoulders
For I am iron
I am unbreakable.
But not unscathed.

I bleed,
Bleed until there is nothing left
Behind a blank mask.
“It’s fine, I’m alright,” I say.
I lie.

We all do.