When I looked at the night sky, I felt a deep sense of loss.

The stars, were too far away.

I packed jars into the fridge, so that they preserve all I have left when I come back.

It was a plague, a silence, that followed and sputtered life and people were scared.

But I got to see you. Goodbye.

And when I got back, I starved with little I had.

i hope there's a place for us
in the end.
unwanted, unpleasant,
they feel so uneasy when we bring it up,
the horrors of death.
they want to forget,
they want to be safe in their bubbles
of blissful oblivion.
right.
should we say we're sorry
for being too loud,
too angry, too stubborn,
not willing to die without a struggle?
perhaps we're just making it all up.
well,
although it was mostly pretend,
we really appreciate
your concern.
thanks for nothing.
i hope there's a place for you, too,
in the end.

a false promise of freedom to a captured man,
just like a cup of poison, filled up to the brim.
a note between the stones of all the walls we've built
and all all the walls they tore down just to fight again.
it's nothing like the light that breaks a peaceful dawn,
it's painted in the colours of a foreign flag.
and everything that burns takes us a lifetime back,
and everyone who died was not meant to be born.
acceptance isn't earned, it's but a weapon drawn
and aimed at those who dare to overstep the line.
a shattered cup of poison for a senseless crime
filled up by blood of every prisoner of war.

i left the same day that the wildfires clouded your skies with orange dust, dirt, and debris
how fitting
they always say the weather matches your mood
in the same way the smoke from the fires was ripping through the air
i, too, was being ripped from your embrace
i felt the smoke fill my lungs as i gasped for breath
or maybe it was a cry for help
i like to think of it as mother nature placing a veil over what could’ve been
in a way she protected me
i didn’t have to face you as i left