More than half the people you meet today will carry the weight of being a burden.
They will ask themselves if they are suited for the task before them.
The same can be said for love.
For relationships, for all the places where doubt takes place

In all honesty,
This uncertainty feels like fears shadow.
An extension of being afraid.

But does fear make us weak?
Most will say yes.
Why care what others think?
Why give someone the power to unmake you?

Society tells us
fear is an enemy.
A thief of peace.

Fortunately, some of us
We see fear differently.
We see it as a teacher,
its sharp edges hiding lessons
That are worth the pain of grasping.

So I encourage you
Be courageous
Be confident in all that you touch
even if your hands tremble
and especially if the task is unfamiliar.

For within fear
There is wisdom waiting
A quiet truth
To guide you forward.

So there is this concept the concept of bananas!

They're yellow, they look like a extra wide c.
Or a parenthesis.

Their sent make bees angry  (bet you didn't know that one.)

And they taste sweet, their texture is kind weird it's not like pudding mabe like a chewed up cookie? Without the chocolate...

They have a natural occurring K in them which helps your body move on a finer level. (without getting to deep into resting membrane potential, depolarization, repolarization and hyperpolarization.)

But anyway this concept of the banana ladder shows how to be descriptive.

While bananas are simple and easy to describe as you go up higher the more abstract things like heaven or love... the harder it gets to describe.

I've tried to describe love, hate, rage... death grief, and alot more esoteric bananas in my writings I hope you have noticed.

It's a funny thing distance.
We put it between ourselves and dangerous situations.
But what about when we put it between people we love?
Its unfortunate and it hurts.
well why though? were they dangerous to us, and our sense of self or we were dangerous to them.
It's never a easy answer.
But people put distance between themselves and their dead relatives, isn't it the same thing. That's distance to right?
Yes, but for us they're very much alive and we can close that distance if we wanted to.
Then why don't we?! END OUR SUFFERING!
we long for them... and all her wonders.
Were it so easy, we would not be here in this winter, feeling just how cold it can get, wanting to close this distance.
I dont care! I'm tierd of feeling this pain go straight through us down to our very bones.
What do you want us to do? Just reach out and say "Hi I'm back"
Do you know how tramatic that is! Do you know how much we've changed because of this distance, they wouldn't even recognize us we are akin to a new person!
No, we will endure this heart breaking, gut wrenching distance.
This distance is horrible.
Just think about the ones that can't endure it.
are they weak. Are we stronger then them? Why couldn't they endure the distance?
No, they're not weak, they're just lost, an have yet to find themselves.
Do you think they're at peace with the distance between us?
Maybe... I don't know. I hope so.

Where am I going.
What are we doing?
We know where we're supposed to go.
Just fighting to get there.

We'll get there eventually.
An we will win this fight
This fight based off knowing where to go
An how to get there?

This is a fight? Im gonna have to fight?!
I didn't know that!
Fight! fight! with everything you got!
Fight till you forget everything you knew

This is knowhere!
you must know where you're are
and know where you are going.

We can question our methods after we've won.

There's alot to be said about end of life care.

But should alot be said?

They're knocking on heavens door, each breath a silent prayer.

Every drive filled with prayers asking for strength. Wiping away tears doing all you can so that they're comfortable and if they go in the night I hope it's peaceful and I hope they know they were loved.

Be at peace when they pass. Be at peace when they go; learn to let go.

Honnor the DNR.

And cry, yell, rage! This is all apart of the process.

I feel heavy.
Not tired — heavy.
Like my chest is holding something I can’t name,
and my silence is louder than anything around me.

I carry heartbreak like it's folded into the fabric of my being.
I carry memories that don’t speak, but press.
I carry questions I can’t answer yet —
what’s next, who I’ll become, if I’ll ever feel seen again.

They say I’m quiet.
Reserved.
But they don’t hear the storms that live under my stillness.

I don’t speak unless it matters,
because life has taught me not every word deserves to live.
Not every space is safe for honesty.
Not every ear will hold my truth without judgment.

But I hold it — every day.
And it gets heavy.

I wish I could cry — fully, not just a tear or two.
But crying feels like surrender, and I’ve been strong for so long
that I forgot what surrender feels like.

Still…
I feel something rising in me.
Not ego. Not pride.
Just… truth.

The truth that I’ve been through too much
to pretend I’m like the rest.
The truth that silence doesn’t mean weakness —
it means I’ve listened to the world and chosen to answer slowly.

And the truth that
even in this heaviness,
I am still here.

Still breathing.
Still standing.
Still healing.

Even if no one sees it — I know it.

I abhore these little duels
These sparing matches where i have held your life in my hands.
an you get to walk away with a smug grin and some lesson I never offered.

My blade has never dulled
it is still as sharp as the day I began hammered it
In the days of my youth.
In the days of fire
In the seasons of silence.

For years I have honed it,
Through trial,
Through grief,
Through betrayal,
Through loss.

Few have seen me draw it.
Even less so have lived after.

But you,
You have earned that right.

If the King permits.
If his judgment out rules my mercy.

Then know this.
On that fated day.
I will not miss.
I cannot and will not save you.
Many will fall.
An you will just be another among the slain.

Never once have I thought or cried out this is unfair, why is this happening to me.

I still can't believe these words actually leave people's lips.

Yet, here I am, thinking it's unfair. For me to be were I am on the verge of something greater then myself bigger then me! It started with two but it's gonna be ending as one.

I'm just a man fighting for his life day in and day out. I'm not a shell nor am I a ghost. I've gained so much strength. I'm not gonna stop till I see what I want to see; what everyone sees.... what she saw.

Sure I look like I'm homeless... its because I'm looking for the right place where I can lay my fullmetal soul down.

Eventually we burning souls will be able to rest but not here not now, sometime down the road okay.

That or we'll run out of tears and our fire will go out an we'll become that monster.

Years ago, a bright flame ignited with a curiosity that could ****.

The flame erupted into an uncontrollable fire
Slowly it came under our control.
Changing from red to blue and never quite dying out.

It progressed into an exciting carnival ride, a real rollercoaster of emotions.

There was so much in between, but the memories have escaped me. I can barely remember now; it almost feels like it was always one-sided.

It extended from the desert of the laughing sun to the rolling planes where a the serine scene of you sitting in the dawn waited.

Good G-d how beautiful you looked in the morning sun there. Is this really it? All that remains are fractured memories of something that feels like a lifetime ago.

Lots of people say maybe in another life.

But seriously what the hell, why couldn't it be this one. ***** that another time another life crap.

Everyday I long for you, your grin the little squeaks you would make everytime I took you in my arms suddenly.

Every part of me longs for you... and I'm sorry we didn't make it. I didn't know what a privilege it was to have you, now it's to late.

A few months ago here I stood doubtful in whether I could accomplish this climb.

This climb that would determine the next chapter in my story.

An... as I climbed I felt the bitterness of sacrifice. Steeling myself to sacrifice my peace and devote myself to the climb.

Then you appeared to me in the dead of night. A night that now feels like a lifetime ago.

That was there with me, and like Athena whom I will always equate you with.

You spoke wisdom, and gave me a friend that I would look for in everyone I would cross paths with.

But I can't follow you.

I wish we didn't have to live like this. But I can't help but wonder sometimes about the future where we can be; where we are.

But if it does exist its far away from here, and it's something that will only exist in our dreams.

Physically we are here, there is no doubt
Mentally we are aware, and fully appreciate our situation.
But emotionally? Please we both know we died 2 years ago.

When all the music fades.
The beeping stops.
Keys turn off their engines.

The silence is really deafening,
No constant buzzing, no ring from my phone.
As I stare into a dark ceiling.

The only thought that plagues me like some dying patient is "how did it end like this."

Am I being haunted by my failure? Am I cursed like some Greek or something to cry out to empty thrones.

"God's! I got a bone to pick with you!." You cut my red cord! If I could I would scorch the heavens! Boil the seas! And make the land a raging inferno.

This is my rage!

This is the ghost of a man that lost someone...

I dont believe in love in first sight.
But when you caught my attention.
I felt that tug inside and all that remained.
Was a curiousty of how long would it take
For you to seep into my bones.
And make me forget everything I knew about love.

When all is still

Im surrounded by the stillness

Passed the fan

The creaks of the house

A low hum for the hallway

Im reminded of how much work there is left to be done.

An in my head im hoping that some of the quiet desires of my heart are gonna be met in the next chapter.

But for now I wait study, prep, and hopefully just hopefully im ready.

I cant call on magic, all I can do is progressively overload.

So till then the silence of the house the ache in my heart...

They'll all just have to wait I can't fill the void of my heart.

At least not yet.

It's time!
Get up, rush like your life depends on it
Because it does!

I hope I get there in time.
If I'm not 5 minutes late
At least I made it!

Cloths smelling like yesterday.
Slip them off.
Get a new set.

Talk about a Monday morning.
Can it just be tomorrow already.

That's the purpose of poetry it's reflection.

And Reflection is messy! Spending days and nights looking at the imperfections and why they are there.

It's filled to the brim with grief, rage, shame, honor and hope.

And this reflection, is so painful. Showing up Daily for my inner beat down.

Knowing your creed and values won't yield even when it comes to people that you love!

Waking up not thinking but knowing your values will drive people away.

Being filled with rage at the doors that have been closed for years!

**** it! I wanted to fight! I wanted to show that I was capable, yet I was denied! For me that was such a shameful thing to be denied the one thing you could do and do very well.

Praying that one day I'll be able to relfect what others see.

But until then I'll keep reflecting. Asking the hard questions, am I pushing myself hard enough?

What more can I do?

Your part in this tale is over.
Don't be bitter, when someone new
Takes the stage as you're exiting.

The sun isn't bitter at the moon.
In fact the moon is the sun's biggest fan because her mediocrity pays reverence to the sun's light.

Mediocrity; petty behavior, casting a shadow on someone else's journey while hiding in the shadows.

Know when it's your final curtain call.

Don't linger.

"CaN you piCtUrE YoUrSelF AlOnE?"

Yes, of course I can.

Does it mean I want to be? **** NO.

The light burned with the intensity of the sun, turning the room into something of a poorly designed sauna.

I remembered when you were here. In this part of my soul. You trianed with me here; but under all that I felt your wandering gaze everytime I was under a loaded barbell.

I remember we would start slowly slipping off pieces of clothing here and there purposefully bumping into eachother so we could be closer.

I always found it funny how my shoes and your boots would be the only articles we actually moved out of the way.

I remember looking at you as you glowed under that light. I think it was then I knew I was *******. Because the next time I'd be bumping into you.

Our lips would meet like a promise I wasnt ready to break. The world would quite down just for a moment as I would actually let myself sink into your warmth.

My arms wrapping around your waist and cupping the back of your head. Yours wrapping around my neck and upper back. Your legs locking squeezing tightly around my waist as if the pain of being away was hurting us both. We became one there.

The combination of sweat, the smell of your hair when you let it down to block out the light so all I would see is your hungry grin.

Unaware and unable to stop your love. Not that I ever wanted to.

We were messy untamed, and we left signs of our love all over the padded floor, on the walls, against the weight rack especially on the bench.

Dripping with sweat and I was practically sliding into you. Each moan you made music to my ears, we were glued to eachother because the thought of being separated was to much to bare.

And our poorly designed sauna made it harder to focus and not fall.

With every heavy breath your sweet voice would reassure me everything was alright. Every moan you would make was as if the heavens opened up for a moment to that glorious garden and fountain.

This was us it was our pleasure you would turn me into jello. And I would have to muster up all the strength to carry you in my arms because you wouldn't be able to stand steadily.

An the way you would whisper "we should continue in the shower" with a giggle, knowing **** well we would be slipping all over the place.

There's nothing better then feeling of certainty when it comes to forging your own path.

Hell anyone whose in the thralls of paving a new path will tell you, it is not easy.

It takes time and effort; hours of being in the weeds and sitting with your shortcomings.

Nights where you second guess yourself if this really is where you want to go.

Of course you didn't have to put yourself through this. You could just stay put and walked another path that was already laid.

But since we already paved the road all that's left is to walk down it.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
That's a bias perspective.
People know what is beautiful and what is not.
What did the sculptures and painters and other simple craftsmen think about when they put their hands to their mediums.

Love, Death, the endless March of time serving as the beat to which the two dance.
These are things all artists have based their work on.

From the stone mason trying to have his work last long after he is gone to the basement wordsmith trying to capture how the love he has for his family is killing him.
It's hard to describe a thing of beauty or the amount of time that goes into its development.
I guess that's why they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Because only you and you alone can appreciate the work.

You burn the wick at both ends, some days.

A golden crown of flame rests upon your head.
Where you walk, the sun follows,
splitting the darkened vale with your presence.

Your laughter is thunder breaking the silence.
Like the dawn, you rise slowly,
but ever so steady.

Then — like wildfire — you are gone,
racing across the horizon,
Blazing a path only you can see,
lighting the way for the unsure.

You are restlessness in stillness,
dancing between creation and ruin —
not because you must,
but because royalty must lead.

Wear your crown with dignity.
For You are a.
Child of fire