living their first time too.
expecting they know everything.  
sweet and sour at the same time.
painful, not living up to their dreams.
i’ll try my best, for both of you, for everything you did and everything you couldn’t do.

I'm so proud of you,
You've made it all the way here,
You're still nothing but yourself.

I still remember when you were little,
Skin and bones all the way till third grade,
Mom was so happy when you started putting on weight,
She was worried you'd starve your growth.

But kids are cruel,
Now I'm worried about you,
You're taking bold steps into life,
Carrying yourself with a grand sense of pride,
Promise you'll be careful, more sensible than me.

Because I want you to be something more than me,
Please don't follow in the shadow of my legacy,
Light a candle, break away, make something more out of your modern day,
You used to have the same haircut, shoes, ideas as me,
Though I finally see you moving along,
I make big foot-prints, I dare you to make bigger ones.

Happiness starts with me
clearing the debris
for all to see
changing the frequency
on internal healing
finding joy in the small things
through hope in believing
fueled by enthusiasm
sparking opportunities
to turn dreams
into realities
creating new memories
protecting our souls harmony
together, with my family
I am I
and only me

(quiet, isn't it?)  

       the air holds its breath.  
               the walls do not move.  
                       the body is still—  
                                  at last, at last, at last.  

but time does not stop.  
        the clock hiccups,  
                        then keeps ticking.  
        the door stays locked,  
                        but the knocking doesn’t stop.  
        the phone keeps ringing,  
                        but no one picks up.  

       (were you expecting silence?)  

somewhere, the sun keeps rising.  
        somewhere, the city hums on.  
                but here—  
                           here, the world tilts,  
                                         the sky folds,  
                                                   the ground sinks beneath them.  

       a mother grips the doorknob,  
                      hand trembling like a faulty lightbulb.  
       a friend stares at the unread message,  
                      timestamped yesterday, 3:14 AM.  
       a lover traces the indent in the mattress,  
                      as if it were a wound that might still close.  

                     they always meant to check in.  
                     they always meant to call.  
                     they always meant to say—  

but meaning is a ghost,  
         and ghosts do not answer.  

       (are you listening?)  

   your name becomes an echo.  
                 a prayer, a question, a plea.  
   your room becomes an altar.  
                 untouched shirts, dust settling like snowfall.  
   your absence becomes a stain.  
                 not red. not blood. something paler, endless, unseen.  

       (is this what you wanted?)  

       the weight is gone,  
               but only for you.  
                     it latches onto their shoulders instead,  
                            vines curling, thick and unrelenting.  

   a sister walks slower.  
   a father speaks softer.  
   a friend laughs less.  

       (you left, but you did not leave alone.)  

       the world keeps turning,  
       the sun keeps rising,  
       the birds keep singing,  

       but for them, the light feels wrong,  
       the sky feels heavier,  
       and the music plays out of tune.  

       (quiet, isn't it?)  

              (but listen—someone is still crying.)

You call at all hours deep into the night,
I wake just to answer, though weary and worn,
Yet never a moment is mine in your sight.

I offer you wisdom, I soften your plight,
I listen to burdens I’ve no need to mourn—
You call at all hours deep into the night.

You argue, insisting your troubles hold might,
Proclaiming my struggles are easy, forlorn,
Yet never a moment is mine in your sight.

No bills to be paid, no rent set in sight,
While I toil and labor from dusk until dawn—
You call at all hours deep into the night.

My world feels so heavy, yet silent, polite,
While yours spins in dramas that vanish by morn,
Yet never a moment is mine in your sight.

Were we not bound by blood, I’d let go of this fight,
For love should be given, not endlessly torn
You call at all hours deep into the night,
Yet never a moment is mine in your sight.

Golden dust on my fingertips, tracing circles in the air,
The night hums a secret song, whispers tangling in my hair.
You step into the candle’s glow, shadows dancing on your skin,
The world outside is fading slow—let the ritual begin.
A thread of silk around our wrists, a vow that time won’t sever,
A flame that flickers in your gaze, burning bright like a forever.
The wind carries ancient words, ones our lips don’t need to say,
With every step, we weave a spell—no force could pull away.
The incense curls, the stars hold their breath,
Two souls entwined, surrendering to death—
Of the lives we had before, the ones we leave behind,
In this sacred moment, we’re completely redefined.
Silver smoke and echoes soft, tracing patterns on your spine,
I carve my name into your soul, you etch yours into mine.
We drink the night like crimson wine, let it course through every vein,
No need to fear the fall this time—this love was built in rain.
Footsteps circling round and round, bare feet sinking in the earth,
Every heartbeat, every sigh, reborn in fire, drowned in mirth.
Hands like prayers against my skin, your voice a quiet plea,
No gods above, no past regrets—just you, the stars, and me.
The incense curls, the stars hold their breath,
Two souls entwined, surrendering to death—
Of the lives we had before, the ones we leave behind,
In this sacred moment, we’re completely redefined.
The fire dims but never dies, embers glowing in the dark,
You and I, a whispered spell, bound by every hidden mark.
Time may wane and rivers change, but this magic stays the same,
In every breath, in every step, I will always know your name.
Golden dust on my fingertips, tracing circles in the air,
The night hums a secret song, whispers tangling in my hair.
You step into the candle’s glow, shadows dancing on your skin,
The world outside is fading slow—let the ritual begin.