Missing names in my letterbox— but mostly yours.
And I have no right to claim it, no reason to expect
your name to arrive again.

I try to write it out— all that it was between us.
A love so bizarre, so hard to define, yet somehow…
energizing. But I want to cut the ties my eyes have
to their tiredness— but I’m still oddly entangled
in the thought of falling asleep to the memory of you.

Tired! Tired!

But no rest compares to you, or the rest I see.
And maybe—
just maybe— the measure I hold love to now
is too tight, too closed, to give anything new
even a chance.

I wish he could know
What I'm too scared to show.
I wish he could see
Just how much he means to me.
I wish he could tell
That I know him so well.
I wish he could feel
My love that is real.
I wish he could hear
The things that I fear
About him never knowing
That my love for him is growing.

pen and "P"aper
poems and qu"O"tes
     writing's th"E" refuge
                  tha"T" gives me hope
         it release"S" the hurt

  and feelings o"F" pain.
           It clears "O"ut  the worries
               that d"R"ive us insane.

                       I'l"L" forever be grateful.
                  Noth"I"ng compares.
      For all that I "F"ace,
        poetry is th"E"re.

White brick,
Metal chains.
Locked In,
So afraid.

Metal clinking,
against concrete.
No escape.
Locked in,
It’s fate.

A small cot,
Made of wood.
In the corner,
White concrete floor,
I shuffle my feet,
Towards the door.

I gave up screaming,
long ago.
I gave up because—
No one could hear me,
Yell.
So now I sink low—
To the concrete,
And look out,
But all I see,
Is more white walls,
So know I doubt myself.

The metal chain,
Weighing me down,
Like a brick.

A chain of—
Regret.
Shame.
Pain.
Sadness.
Fear.
Anxiety.
Anger.

I’m stuck in this,
walled concrete cell.
With thick metal-
Bars
Metal chains,
Weighing me down,
Forming deep scars.
From those already there.

This room,
I’m trapped.
It has always lasted,
I’m stuck here,
Always tested.

I hope one day.
I’ll break the chains.
But Im still stuck,
Attached to this wall,
In this cage,
In this room,
Debating if I can ever change.

Dad,

Thank you—for my childhood,

For the safety I never saw, yet always felt.

Thank you for being my teacher through example,

For guiding me not just with words,

But with the quiet strength of your actions.


Thank you for the advice—

Even when I met it with resistance,

Blind to the wisdom time would later reveal.

Thank you for the pain you carried in silence,

For the exhaustion, the tears,

Hidden behind smiles and strength.


Thank you…

For that towel stained with blood from a nose you tried to hide—

A small, unforgettable symbol of all the battles you fought

Without ever letting us feel the weight.

Thank you for being our shield,

Even when your soul was weary.


Now,

Everything is different.

I stumble, I fall, and you’re not here to steady me.

But your voice echoes in my heart,

Your lessons live in my choices,

And your spirit lights my darkest hours.


Now, I face the world alone.

And though I try—each and every day—

This ache, this longing for you,

Is fiercer than any challenge life throws my way.


Sometimes I ask myself…

For how long will this hurt last?

And yet, I hold on—

To your memory,

To your strength,

To the promise I whisper quietly to myself:


Until we meet again.

Can you hear the stars,
sweet infinite music
the whistled song of the sky as it soars above us,
yes, you with your phone clamped to one ear
are you deaf to the whistled tune of the universe
then you have truly lost connection