Know that I wait with steady grace,
Hiding pain no one sees in this space.
Behind each smile, a fragile light,
That shines despite the darkest night.

I am not who I was before—
Worn by sorrow, aching at the core.
The echoes of heartbreak haunt the night,
Yet still I stand, still I fight.

Once shattered dreams lay at my feet,
Their whispers cold, their silence sweet.
But from the cracks, a light grew wide,
A fiercer love I could not hide.

Now I strive to be whole and new,
With dreams to chase and hopes to pursue.
I stitch my soul with gentler thread,
Finding strength where once I fled.

I wake each day with steady hands,
Building castles from shifting sands.
A heart prepared to give and grow,
To bloom again, to overflow.

I water joy with tears I’ve shed,
Raise prayers from the words I’ve never said.
In solitude, I’ve come to see
The depth of love begins with me.

And still, my spirit turns to you,
To something felt but never knew.
A bond unseen, yet somehow near,
A name unspoken, but always dear.

And when that moment finally comes,
I want you to hear these quiet drums—
The rhythm of a soul once torn,
Now healed by all the storms it’s worn.

The wounds I carried, now healed through,
Softened and made whole by you, my lover true.
Not as a savior, nor as a cure,
But one who loves me strong and pure.

So if you find me—worn but wise,
With softer voice and clearer eyes—
Know this heart has walked through flame,
And still believes in love’s sweet name.

When you arrive, no grand parade,
Just quiet peace in scars that fade.
And in your arms, I’ll softly say:
“Thank you for coming all this way.”

In the noose on a dusty loft
or the thunderous champagne fizz,
in the so everlasting mist
of this life, so unjust and morose
what gentler death there is
than to the hand of love?

Another frightening dream
Prayers for my dad
4:49 a.m.
Sweet Sir Galahad

I play for my team
I wake, I take, I write
Back to troubled sleep
Looking for the light

                  alright.

Here, I suffer—not from wounds of flesh,
But from the torment of the mind’s cruel mesh.
Each thought a thread, each thread a chain,
Binding my soul in silent pain.

I am abused by time’s relentless hand,
That parts two hearts meant to stand.
Not in conflict, nor in spite,
But by the ticking of day to night.

Time does not wound like blade or flame,
It steals in silence, without name.
It pulls you far, while I remain,
A shadow wrapped in sweet refrain.

I call your name in midnight air,
But only echoes answer there.
My heart still knows the rhythm true
Of every breath that once was you.

Yet I believe—no, I know—deep down,
Fate will not let this love be drowned.
Time, too, shall one day weave,
Two destined souls it will conceive.

If I had the power, I’d hold time still,
Freeze the stars by sheerest will.
Let sun and moon forget their dance,
To give our story one more chance.

I’d build a world where clocks don’t chime,
Where love exists outside of time.
A space untouched by age or end,
Where soul meets soul, as lover and friend.

And there we’d stay—beyond space’s will—
In silent peace, in golden still.
No ticking hours, no fleeting start,
Just the eternal union of soul and heart.

The summer storm came with a fury
The rain poured down
As if pouring from a glass
Rushing quickly to the ground
Blinding the eye like a whiteout
The plants danced in the wind
Happy to receive natures elixir
The air got cleansed of the soot and heat
The sky washed fresh
The streets were cleaned
The sidewalks scrubbed
Mother Nature at her best
The plants were nourished  to the roots
The summer storm came with a fury
Making everything new once again