Imagine the world smooth and polished
Imagine the world skimming water
Imagine the worlds ripples on the water
Imagine the world that is smooth, polished and skimming is you
Now imagine that the smooth polished skimming world that is you suddenly drops with a splash 💦

Years of being bullied
Being called all sorts of
Of names
Getting in all sorts of fights
Pulling all sorts of pranks
On my torturers
The grim *******
Alex, Karen and jennifer
Has nearly lead to
Me dead on day
In Guantanamo Bay
I wish I lie
But that was what I was threatened
With
Given the choice of life or death
I chose life and became a yakuza
It was only for my only safety
But I learned some lessons on the way
The hard way

I’ve climbed the peaks of my ambitions,
Gathered medals, built traditions,
Each step forward marked with pride,
Yet something stirs, unfulfilled inside.

The paths I’ve walked, they glimmered gold,
Stories of growth and journeys bold,
But as I stand and take a view,
I wonder—was this path mine to pursue?

The roads ahead stretch vast, unknown,
Some feel foreign, some feel home,
Yet none whisper, This is the way,
They tease the question I ask each day.

Am I the architect of my dreams?
Or just a player in someone’s scheme?
I’ve built, I’ve grown, I’ve reached, I’ve tried,
Yet the spark of purpose hides inside.

Success is hollow when roots aren’t deep,
And growth feels shallow when dreams don’t keep,
But in this fog, a truth unfolds:
The answers lie in the soul I hold.

So I’ll pause the rush, the endless chase,
Sit with myself in this still, quiet space,
Listen to whispers of passion’s fire,
To rediscover what I truly desire.

For purpose isn’t in paths pre-paved,
It’s carved where courage meets hearts unscathed,
And though I wander, uncertain, unclear,
I trust the compass I hold right here.

I may not know which way to steer,
But each step forward conquers fear,
And in the journey, I’ll find my part—
For purpose is born from the seeking heart.

Alone I stand barefoot on a floor of broken glass.
Two doors across the way in front of me.
One door leads to my salvation, the other quite possibly damnation.
Though neither door is marked, it's true they are unremarkably the same
The choice for me remains all too clear.
Smooth glass on the left, sharp and twisted to the right
I take a breath and step upon the path, blood pouring from my feet.
The pain is somehow sweet, for I see the blood of others gone before.
Persistence in spite of pain brings life's greatest gains, and I smile as light floods through the opening door.
I took the path less traveled as old man Frost would surely agree, and that less traveled path has made all the difference in me.

A fork in the road.
Will it stab me like a knife
or spoon feed me joy?

my heart started beating rapidly
not out of Love but out of fear
distanced myself subconsciously
my mind was anything but clear

read old fun conversations
tried to recreate what’s there
but our friendship lost its foundation
yet we weren’t even aware

those arguments made me nauseous
couldn’t fight back couldn’t even speak
just became more cautious
and continued to feel so weak

suffocated in my own pain
trying to stay by your side
ended up with absolutely no gain
because what we had has died

tired of being stuck in a cage
in desperate need to flee
need to stop the constant rage
so leaving in hopes of being free

And as time flows on
Like sand falling through my fingers
My skin lines with wrinkles
And your path lingers
Turns away
Our growing shadows hinder
Hold onto our shoulders
Until they pull us down among the cinder
Soil holds us up until it holds us down
And your feet are still here
Stood next to me
But with each breath
With each blink of the eye
We yearn for more than
What's been placed in our hands
And as it all fades away
Returns back to land
I lie in wake
Of what's at hand
I'm still here
How long will you be?

there's half eaten cake here.
remnants of its body
thrown onto small plates,
forks laid atop them.

empty bottles of cider
stand like bowling pins,
one stumble and they'll topple.
(much like us, one stumble and we'd fall).

drunken laughter,
spoken and unspoken admissions
fill the space between
silence and sleep.

and i wonder if years ago,
i hd made a different choice,
if this is still
where i'd be.