I predict
That you will not recognize me someday
And that my shame will be all too apparent

That the ruse i use to excuse myself of mistakes
Will stay the same
But you will grow tired of hearing it
And it will be all too clear
What is going on here

But you are tired now
And given the infinite nature of everything
That would be why you appear the way you do sometimes
Bitter, angry, not a fan

But

she has my voice,
only sweeter;
she has my notions,
only purer;
she has my pride,
only gentler;

she knows i’m hurt,
only better.

she means well;
is it… only a spell?
she breathes a song;
only, i cannot tell —
if she yearns for me,
or only mourns for me.

to me, it don't seem;
but i know —
she's only a dream.

You saw it coming,
you knew it
I had my chance,
I blew it
You held my hand
We walked to the edge

I couldn’t jump

We built
a tower
with hands
that did not know
how to touch.

It rose,
stone by stone.
Each word, a brick.
Each silence,
the mortar.
Promises—
vanishing into air.

We stood
at the bottom,
blaming the height
for our aches—
but the tower
was never
what broke us.

For I want to be
kissed by the sun

not the candlelight

There isn’t room
at this table
for the both of us

I want to sleep
deep in the forest

close my eyes
and not be alone

A bed for two
only lasts the night

I want to take my heart
hold it in my arms

and not give it back
this time

To laugh and sing
and dance

to let them know
it’s just a silly little life

but it’s mine

I exist.

But i need to do things
I don't really like,
And i dream
Of a different life.

So, am i truly alive?

The morning sun rises,
casting golden hues on empty shelves.
A quiet sigh escapes,
as the fridge door closes,
echoing the absence.

No milk today,
a simple truth,
yet it ripples through the day.
Coffee, dark and bitter,
cereal, dry and plain,
a reminder of what’s missing.

The cat meows,
eyes wide with expectation,
but the bowl remains empty,
a silent apology.

In the stillness,
memories of mornings past,
when the world felt full,
and the milk flowed freely,
creeping into the present.

No milk today,
but life goes on,
in the small moments,
the quiet resilience,
finding sweetness in the unexpected.

I suppose it’s a good thing
That I don’t gamble
Because I would’ve lost it all
Betting on us