An ill-built wall
of stone and brick words poorly joined , not motared but plastered with white wash and held together by precarious tension .

I’m tired of swiping, tired of staring  
at faces I’ll never touch.  
The world feels like a crowded room,  
but nobody’s looking my way.  

They say love’s a battlefield,  
but I’m unarmed, bare hands,  
a heart too soft to fight.  
And yet I keep stepping in,  
waiting for a glance, a spark,  
someone to call my name like it’s theirs.  

I don’t want roses,  
don’t need sweet words dripping with lies.  
Give me the mess,  
the bruises, the fire that burns  
when two souls collide too fast.  
I’ll take it raw,  
no filters, no edits,  
just truth.  

Is it too much to ask  
for someone to stay,  
to look at me like I’m the only star  
in their dark sky?  
Or am I just searching  
for something that was never  
meant to be found?

We usually say
"step into the light"
when there's
nothing but night
But do we say
"step into the night"
when the light
is so bright
that it not only blinds
but burns out our eyes?

When extremist's
play their games
to blind our
sensitive eyes
it doesn't matter
if they're using
darkness or light

It's all the same
if you're snowblind
or just left alone
in the dark
Whether it's
viral or bacterial
it's still an infection

Feeling our way
in the heavy black air
too thick to breathe
Fumbling around
in the light gray air
too thin to breathe

Caught in the loop of
groping the walls of our
minds in twilight
Struggling to refocus
in moonlight
Then so exhausted
by daybreak
that we sleep it all off
until dusk

Too much darkness
Too much light
Too much cold
Too much heat
Too much pleasure
Too much pain
Too much sunshine
Too much rain
You can have too little
or too much of anything.