I won’t claim space  
you haven't softly opened,  
but in the gentle breath  
between silence and sound,  
I remain

Not as a shadow lingering  
nor a ghost from yesterday,  
but as someone who always saw you,  
clearly, tenderly,  
even when your heart feared  
what it meant to be truly known.

I know your quiet battles,  
the way you fear losing control,  
how it aches to reveal yourself,  
to step from shadow into light,  
uncertain if anyone could truly hold  
the weight and wonder of your soul.

I've seen you craft careful armor,  
watched you dance on edges of yourself  
longing to be witnessed,  
yet afraid the world  
might look too deeply,  
or not closely enough.

But I saw.

I saw the trembling courage  
behind every hesitant smile,  
the hidden poetry you wrote  
with whispered breaths,  
the strength in softness  
you thought went unnoticed.

I witnessed your silent bravery
the quiet way you loved,  
the gentle way you tried,  
the powerful beauty  
in simply showing up,  
even when you felt unseen.

We are worthy. We are capable. We are loved.

Especially when we're sick and tired or when we feel like laying in bed all day. Or when we actually do nothing the whole day. I want to remind us that this doesn't mean we're not productive, not capable or not worthy.

We're still as worthy as before, we're still as loved as before. It's just that our bodies and minds need to rest.
We actually need to rest regularly, but sometimes we forget that.

Now that I am sick I realized that and it's a relief to be there for myself although I feel so unproductive. I am loved. And you are, too. No matter what you're doing or not doing.

i am all alone
please don't lie and say
i am loved
because that's simply not true
life is pointless
why would you ever say
there's hope for me

(now read bottom up)

A knot work spell is an easy way
To breathe magic into macrame.
An anchor knot for an aid
so I don’t drop my braid.

I try to tie well,
for each knot is a spell
I don’t want to unravel.

Carefully binding
to seal in my intentions.

A mantra, repeated with each loop.

I am loved,
I am loved,
I am loved.

I looked at the tombstone, cold and bare,
And all it spoke was love’s despair-
To love, to be loved, to hold for a while,

Behind me, the sky was bare,
A canvas stretched by emptiness
Men and women, faceless,
Feeding hunger that never knew a soul.

The sun bowed down, the hours slipped away,
But the clock kept ticking, as if to say-
That the soul, unmeasured, keeps no time,
Lost in the race,

At the hospital’s quiet edge,
Where life wavered between the inhale and the eternal,
I asked the frail what they carried into the void.
Their lips trembled, but only love spilled forth:
“To be loved, to have loved.

I'll never be the mechanic
that can show you how to fix a flat tire.
And I'll never be the eagle scout
that can start a fire.
No, I'll never be your knight in shining armor. But I'll always be the one
that can make you smile.
Cause I'll always be the one you can talk to every once in awhile
when you want to feel wanted and loved.