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Keegan May 15
The stomach knows what the mind forgets
a hollow vessel curved to hold
all we've swallowed but cannot speak:
grief folded into itself like origami,
words collapsed to fit inside the body's vault.

We carry silence there, dense as stone.
The unspoken grows heavier
settles deeper beneath the ribs,
becomes the ghost that haunts our hunger.

And in the chest, breath hesitates,
draws itself thin and trembling,
afraid to disturb what's settled below.
Each inhalation measured and cautious,
each exhale holding back its full release

as if the body understands
that to breathe completely
might dislodge the carefully packed archive
of everything we couldn't bear to name.
Keegan May 15
Night drapes itself
heavy, dark, a silent cloak
rain murmurs secrets
as it kisses pavement.

Somewhere distant,
a quarter slips
from nervous fingers,
metal tumbling
a ringing, spinning hymn,
a solitary flip.

I know this sound,
this silver dance;
my thoughts often spin
just like this coin,
caught midair, uncertain,
waiting to land
on heads or tails
past or future,
hope or regret.
Keegan May 14
At night,
when my mind won't stop
and every thought feels loud
I picture you next to me.

I see your face clearly
like you're actually here.
Your breathing steady,
your warmth beside me
and suddenly,
everything just stops.

It's quiet.
Calm.

I close my eyes,
feeling safe,
believing for a moment
you're really here,
lying next to me,
telling me it’s okay
to let go,
to sleep.

And somehow,
just imagining you
is enough.
Keegan May 14
At night, when silence softly breathes,
I’ve quieted storms, calmed the waves,
Yet shadows stir beneath the ease
Whispers rise from hidden graves.

Daylight sees me chasing bliss,
Sunlit smiles hide the cost,
But moonlight speaks of all I miss
Echoes sacred, treasures lost.

When darkness blooms behind closed eyes,
The heart recounts each stolen scene;
Tender moments, fading ties
Ghosts of all that might have been.

Sleepless, bound by quiet chains,
Haunted gently, endless ache;
Memories pulse in muted veins,
Dreaming wide while wide awake.

Night unveils what daylight veils,
Sacred sorrows left to grow,
Silence sings of unseen trails
Paths I wander, but can’t let go.
Keegan May 14
I wake to the soft rustle of morning,
yet it's your whisper I always hear,
lingering quietly in sunlight’s gold,
in each breath, you're vividly clear.

As coffee swirls in porcelain white,
your laughter ripples through the steam
you are warmth held in my fingertips,
the gentle haunt within each dream.

Through crowded streets, you're gentle wind,
brushing past as a fleeting sigh;
your perfume lives in blooms of spring,
each petal kissed as you drift by.

I see your smile in evening skies,
your eyes reflected in starlight gleam,
guiding my thoughts like ancient maps,
comforting shadows in night's soft scheme.

And when silence embraces midnight,
you become the lullaby unsung
a quiet spell cast on my solitude,
the magic left when love was young.

You're woven deep, my life's soft thread;
I carry your magic everywhere,
comforted by visions softly led.
Keegan May 14
I move through days like ancient streams,  
Each moment caught in amber light
The sacred grace in mundane things,  
The beauty hiding plain from sight.

I pause where others only rush
To touch the fragile, intricate art  
Of ordinary miracles,  
Each one a softly beating heart.

They chase the glittering, hollow dreams,  
The ceaseless noise that fills the air,  
While in my hallowed solitude,  
I breathe a deeper, quieter prayer.

I walk apart, but never lone,  
My world a constellation vast;  
The quiet truths I hold like stars,  
My steady steps, unhurried, cast.

I rarely speak the language shared  
By those who dance the crowded floor,  
Yet freedom blooms within this choice  
To value stillness, seeking more.

Though hurried shadows flicker past,  
Their vision blurred by constant pace,  
I stand within my own true light  
It's more than fine to claim this space.

For somewhere else, kindred souls  
Are breathing slow in time with mine,  
Other hearts who dare to pause,  
Embracing life's unhurried design.

Together, distant yet aligned,  
In quiet truth we find our way
Not common, no, but wholly free,  
And that is sacred, come what may.
Keegan May 8
There’s a sailboat moored in my chest
anchored gently in quiet waters,
its hull shaped by storms weathered long ago,
wood now polished by waves
of solitude and strength.

Its sails breathe gratitude,
lifting gently with the dawn’s soft breath
a breeze scented with fresh coffee
and quiet laughter of birds.
It’s in these moments I understand
happiness isn’t a distant shore,
but the ocean beneath me now,
vast, patient, and alive.

Twilight brings gentle echoes
reminders of storms that guided me here,
waves born from childhood tides,
currents flowing from quiet lessons learned,
moments of struggle transformed into wisdom.

I used to fear drifting
beneath moonlit skies,
believing safety lay only
in charted lands unseen.
But now, drifting feels beautiful
trusting the currents of inner knowing,
guided by constellations of growth,
and quiet whispers of the past.

And when the night grows still,
when no wind fills these sails,
I sit gently in silence,
embracing peace like an old friend
to listen deeply to the ocean inside.

Now I sail gently,
through tranquil mornings and thoughtful evenings,
grateful for every breeze and calm wave,
navigating by life’s quiet miracles
morning coffee, painted canvases,
soft rain tapping gently on a car roof,
conversations nourishing my soul,
a sky wide open, full of stars.

This boat isn’t seeking
faraway lands for promised happiness;
instead, it savors joy
in every wave beneath it,
in each breath of salt-filled air,
every heartbeat a gentle reminder.
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