I have a secret obsession,
Which I could never admit.
It's like an unheard question,
That'll be forgotten to infinite

I have a secret obsession,
Like kids obsess over growing up
And adults over perfection;
Chasing dreams that never stop.

I have a secret obsession,
You'll never guess what it is;
But I'm guessing I could only give you this:
You're the truth I can not mention, due to my secret obsession.

No more
No more
No more
No more
I'm going to get milk and smokes from the corner store...

©2024

In the end,
what matters only is-
how well you look
into the eyes of
your child,

being brave to stand
as a hero or
ashamed as a villain.

Fear
The first dark breath we take,
a shadow that grows as we learn its name.
It lives in quiet corners,
where thoughts echo back our doubts,
and we wonder—are we truly alone?

Afraid of what’s lost, afraid to hold on,
we spin in loops of overthought,
making prisons from our own doubts.
How strange it is to long for touch,

to carry the weight of endless what-ifs,
a reel of past and future fears,
afraid to step forward, afraid to let go.

But somewhere beyond this haze of worry,
beyond the walls we’ve built so high,
a light breaks through, soft and true.
And deep down I know, one day I’ll find you—
So I can say, I got you;
everything’s gonna be okay.

They come to me, streaming in drop by drop,
so I collect them all, trying to keep them whole,
comforting them with words I wish to hear,

Lacing my words with encouragement,
so others may see the best in me,
but what they see is a character of fictioniality,
a mask woven from gentle phrases,
stitched with threads of borrowed grace.

Yet beneath, a voice still echoes, softly,
of the solace I chase.

The breath of the almighty whispers, telling me to hold on,
giving me more to believe in.

I offer words like fragile offerings,
each a delicate vessel, wondering,
do they bear my truth or simply reflect my hopes?

In this intricate dance,
I stitch together fragments of dreams and fears,
crafting a tapestry that reveals and conceals
a symphony of whispered encouragement,
yet beneath it all, a quiet yearning lingers,
seeking the voice that truly understands.

The breath of the divine fills the spaces in between,
urging me onward, promising that even in silence,
I am profoundly heard.

I look at her standing in front of me;
Her eyes are empty and dead,
It reminisces her soul.
I break down seeing her,
It’s my fault she’s like this,
I am not who she wanted me to be,
I wish I can go back and fix my mistakes.

I let the tears roll down my pale cheeks.
Her face hold no emotion,
The is no string tying her down to earth,
I’m afraid she’s going to float away,
Out of my grasp,
And I won’t see her again.

I wish she can know how much she’s loved.
Her frame is slumped,
I feel nothing but guilt.
It’s all my fault.
She didn’t deserve this.
Neither did I,
But this isn’t about me,
What’s done is done,
But I wish she could have it better.

She thinks it’s all hopeless,
I want to scream that it isn’t,
I know she can’t hear me,
I’m watching her from a distance,
As invisible force keeping me from her.

I want to hug her,
Whisper to her that everything’s going to be okay,
But I can’t.
What’s done is done.
So take me home to the life I wish I could change.

As she glides down the aisle, shadows of her past converge,
Memories of anguish and sorrow's relentless surge.
The weight of isolation, the ache of emptiness,
Would soon dissolve, replaced by love's gentle caress.

Tears and pain, once constants, would become a distant past,
A fleeting memory, eclipsed by love that would last.
In his arms, she'd find solace, a haven from her fears,
A gentle soul to listen, to wipe away her tears.

Yet, instead of serenity, panic seized her heart,
A dread of surrendering to love's redeeming start.
She clung to the familiar pangs of sorrow and strife,
Afraid to release the joy that threatened her fragile life.

Like whispers of a summer breeze, her smiles had always fled,
Leaving her with echoes of a long-forgotten thread.
But now, with love's promise, her heart should have soared,
Not trembled with the ghosts of love she'd never explored.

Instead of embracing liberation, she fled the altar's might,
Her footsteps echoing his cries, a haunting, desperate plight.