shallow thoughts
masquerading as profound
praised and rejoiced by the crowd
for simplicity beckons comprehension
while complexity ruins false realities

I find bitterness
in how they sing, dance, and act
real talents in camera smiles
fooling everyone because
they've fooled themselves
hiding behind duplicity

putting on a spectacular show
rather than facing what lies in truth
cheating themselves by burying
sorrow, pain, and the desolate feelings
that test their strength
makes them human

so few of us willing and able
to face our own reckoning
to bear the weight of the journey
and the hope that what makes it perilous
is what makes it worthwhile

for someone always lingering
in the shadow after light
how it must feel
to face the sun,
matching its fervent touch
with infernal recognition,
a compressed prism
only the dark can feel

It was a day like any day, walking nowhere in particular, when he turned to her and told her, "One day, we'll miss this moment."

With that simple sentence, a murky pang of sadness settled deep inside her. He wasn't a poet, but maybe he should have been.

Would we yearn for the most simple day, one day? The most mundane sunset, the walk to nowhere...

Knowing that time cannot be held onto—that each day together also brought them farther apart, that they would never be as close as they were in this moment.

It reminded her of a scribbled journal entry from long ago; how the happiest memories always became the saddest ones.

She held his hand tighter in resignation.

They continued on.

pain turned into insight
scorn into soft pity, yet
curious how fever dreams
of desire remain the same
after so long, still pulling
from the same well

I ponder about choice
the weight of it on man

for a wolf does not choose
to slake its thirst unjustly
and an overbearing oak
does not refuse the sun

yet man drinks lest he refuses
demands and reasons
towards the imminent dark
or what’s left of the light

I feel older lately
composed of more failures
and fractures than successes
all the mistakes dotted
together like constellations

we become acutely aware
of our own existence
when it’s too late to go back
and there’s nothing left
but what’s ahead

all to say that time
is our one and only
common denominator
a heavy lesson to learn
willingly or otherwise

she often finds herself awake in the middle of the night. solace with indigo skies. how the universe breathes the same breath as her. contracting and expanding until the hues of dark fade.