I’ve died so many quiet deaths—
shedding selves that were never wrong,
just no longer true.

Each one carried me
as far as it could
before laying itself down
so I could rise.

Now that I’ve found healing,
I see it was always there—
a quiet knowing,
guiding me forward
through the dark.

But now I wonder—
was it the knowing that shaped the path,
or the path that shaped the knowing?
Did I become who I was meant to be,
or did I simply arrive
where I’d always been?

By Abpoetry


Better know it,
Better believe it,
Its really coming,
There is no running,

Roses bloom , no more,
And the fruits kept sacred,
Mason jars less broken,
Evils comes , you better scope it,

Pleasing other people,
will not get you anywhere,
protecting your energy,
Fake as extincting bears,

Proven the innocence,
Some work 12 jobs and ****,
Take time to find yourself,
To be the best and ****..

You lay there surprised
Knew these things happen
And that you need time

“stranger”
that’s a curious word
new people
aren’t really strange
they sparkle
unblemished by memory

soon enough
a faint falter
a clink in the armor
A speck of brown in
your ocean blue eyes

slowly at first
the cracks began to grow
rust rose to the surface
like the way age paints the sea

there was no breaking moment
just gentle tapping
once pristine edges
smooth from rust

before me
no longer was
a shiny person
uncovered was
a beautiful rusty person

I'm tired,
But that's not everything,
I'm out of body,
Often with my soul wandering,
Watching over things and righting the displaced,
A fragment of what it should be,
So don't worry,
I'm tired too.

Time is an ocean that is free to move upon its own tide
The coming and the going always aligned
Truth without knowing
Reflecting endless skies
—Timothy Charles Carter

I look at the time
over and over
is it better or worse to know?
to give myself more time?
or am I just drawing out
the bitter, inevitable end