Days move like smoke
Shifting, Slipping, Intangible
Dreams that I have clutched so tightly
Have unraveled in my hands
And I wonder if they were ever mine
Or just borrowed stories
I was too afraid to rewrite
Change comes quietly
Like a tide rising in the dark
Washing away all that once was.

Some endings are not always loud
Some you don’t notice until they’re already gone
This strange middle ground
Is not the version that I imagined

I am bruised but still standing
I am lost but still walking
And when I arrive , it will be a shedding
Layer by layer
Until I am bare
And afraid
And free.

You are the silence after the rain
The scent of the wet aftermath
The earth holds its breath in renewal
I see you in the stillness between moments
When time feels less sharp
A rhythm that asks nothing
But gives everything.
The aches of the days dissolve
Like frost melting under the morning winter light
In your eyes, there is no urgency
Only infinite tenderness, a horizon of calm
You are not just a place to return to
But the quiet I carry deep within me.

I ran from the woman I couldn’t yet see
Her heart too wild, her soul too free
Lost in the ache of everyone else's touch
Fearing the depth of feeling too much.

So I stop running, though fear grips my hand
And face the mirror I can’t yet understand
Endless reparations made a mosaic of fire
A masterpiece born of struggle and desire.

But love waits softly, in shadows I chase
A quiet whisper, a tender embrace
In broken shards I start to believe
The woman I’m running from wants me to breathe.

Your hot breath still
Tortures me in my sleep.
At the most vulnerable moments,
You are a plague to my name.
How much more can you break me?
Please, God, let me give up
and let your blood seep into my bones.
You are the parts of me
I hate the most.
I wonder how much longer
Your grey skin and ***** fingernails
Will keep me up at night.

Some days I mourn my childhood
Washed away into the sea, on a brittle wooden raft
The world was so far out of reach
But my heart was dying to be crushed by it
I was a jester, making everyone else's bleeding heads fill with laughter
The sweat leaked from our palms
Hard labor for unappreciative guests
And I ache for the pain we shared
It was ours to grow together, over watered and drowned by the old shed out back
Now the distance in our lives grows larger
And I am proud of what we made
But I miss you terribly.

We made plans some days ago to see the food truck on Saturday. It wasnt just any food truck; it was the Hello Kitty truck. You knew I had been wanting to see it in california but we never got a chance to go. We loved going to california. The calm beauty of our vacations made everything else so forgettable. My boss gave me a paper showing me how to get to the truck. I couldnt believe it was coming to us. There was no hesitation in your agreement to join me.
We drove Saturday morning in the early sunshine. I hated mornings, but they can be bearable for the right reasons. Driving with you is one of them. We were so laughably broke all the time but it didnt matter. Money comes and goes, but time stays and turns into memories. We would find gas somewhere. The journey was 1/3 the fun. The music was the other 1/3, and the destination was the last.
Arriving, we saw displays of expensive plastic. Cookies I could make at home with love. It was a sad sight. We couldnt afford anything that was on the menu, and the line was so long. The day was warm. I looked at you and shrugged. You flashed your warm smile. I loved you. The days couldnt be that bad with you. I asked if you wanted to go to a coffee shop. You were relieved to leave. We discussed consumerism and hated the hand life dealt us. But it was okay. You taught me how to play chess in the corner of the coffee shop. They had a lavendar drink that made me think of you. You loved lavendar. We talked and played chess for hours. Everything would be okay, I always knew.

I never used to have trouble sleeping
Until the beat of my ear drums caught up with me
And I started to recognize the song playing out my windows
Every line was a piece of fruit growing in my heart
And harvesting the blood can wear me out
The night peeks through half open blinds, sheepishly
As if it were to ask me if it can come in and haunt
Reminding me of secrets I never told myself.

I slept through a fire alarm once, my father said
And now they always appear in my dreams
Running to catch the wind, grappling onto symbols and
meaning , as if there were anything to say.
The silence keeps tossing me awake, prodding
Like an electric shock, forcing the experience of
Trembling honesty and regurgitation.