I wish I lacked empathy.
I don’t want to feel.
I don’t want to see signs.
I don’t want to be real.

One minute, I’m fine—
then my soul explodes in my chest.
I wish I didn’t see that.
But I did. And now, no rest.

I wish I could shrug,
say “that’s not my concern,”
but every flicker of pain
Causes my stomach to hurt.

I notice the silence,
the shift in your tone—
there's nothing in your voice
It's all I think about alone.

This is why I'm standoffish and stick to just me
There's no ache in loneliness
At least not the kind that stings

Maybe I'll make friends but that feels like betrayal
These self imposed rules- a safe fortress failure

I wish I didn’t feel
At least not to this extent
My day was going so good
But I ruined it again

I sit with stars no one can see,
Dreaming roads that set minds free.
In halls of noise, I speak so low,
But in my heart, whole forests grow.

They say "Be still, Stay in your place",
But I see planets, time and space.
They don't see how I light the dark-
A quiet kid with a silent spark.

No one listens, No one stays,
Yet I keep building in my ways.
With every 'no', I write my song,
Because in dreams, I do belong.

One day they'll see the things I made,
The lights I sparked, the roads I paved.
And though today I stand alone,
My spark is small- but fully grown.

Everyday
New ways
Better days
Helpful ways
Much too say
Heat is on

I love days like this
late day sunshine, early summer bliss.
The magnolia smells of home,
no matter how displaced
June breeze, calm and playful
your hand on my bare waist.

Sometimes I stare out beyond what I can see
and wonder who else has been.
Ancient southern trees
covered in spanish moss where leaves grow thin.
The night approaches
a lone rider with no name
the cover of darkness imposed
and fashions mystery just the same.

Growing restless in the thickness of heat
solstice tastes like sugar and a hidden moon
something mindless and indistinct.
Burning for as long as an eye can blink,
gentle little light of beetle make the way
know it could lead me somewhere far, far off
but here, I so wish to stay.

the birds chirp in the distance
the sun glows bright
in the cerulean sky
no clouds in sight
just sunshine
beating down on your skin
sweat trickles down your brow
a slight breeze
sways the grass
around your ankles

The last time I wrote you a love letter
you disappeared
and left me in utter darkness.
Now here you are lighting up my sky again.
Sometimes you feel so sure
and full of yourself.
At others you seem empty and new.
I am trying to better appreciate you
in your becoming
to wax poetic even when we are apart.
Even in your absence I am learning
to be present
to take my time
to still shine.
But I wonder
I wonder how many lovers you have.
I know I am not your only.
The world is a wetter place because of you.
Oceans lap at your face.
When you blink my tides change.
Your control is out-of-this-world.
And I just wanna be near you
somewhere in your orbit.
Close enough to see you
flaws and all.
You wear your depressions so well.
It’s like they never stop you from being whole.
I mean here you go rising to the occasion yet again.
And I can’t help but be struck in awe
of your aura.
So here is another love letter
(for your collection).
And before you disappear
  because I can already sense your waning
I want you to know that you are the balance to my days.


Luna, I love you

For me,
Writing is like praying
in the middle of a tragedy.
When the world has cracked upon.
When something breaks
that words can't fix,
but must weave them together.

Tragedy doesn't ask for beauty,
Only truth.
Even if that truth is trembling,
Fragmented,
Barely breathing
on the page.

The blank document becomes a place
where I can speak
to something
or someone
without needing a reply,
Without having to explain myself,
Without apologizing
for the mess of it all.

Some people write to move on.
I write to stay,
to sit behind these ruins
and whisper:
"I saw this,
It mattered.
It hurts like hell."
And in those moments
writing about lost love
or people who are gone
but never truly absent
something shifts.

I find GOD there,
or maybe GOD finds me
in the wreckage.
Not in thunder,
not in easy answers,
but in that quiet breath
between one word and next
In the space where honesty lives.