A weeping man still sways from side to side...
paying for a borrowed smile, hoping it makes 
change for something close to beauty.
Truly balance feels expensive these days,
and I keep losing it in small ways.

A full bottle waits by my bed; to only wet 
my tongue— I’ve been running too hard 
in my sleep, chasing dreams that never 
learned how to let me rest.

Somewhere, we skipped a thousand years 
of youth; time didn’t notice—_it rarely does._
I hold tighter now, hands shaking but honest,
to the few things that still feel real—and take 
one steady step into what’s next.