I’m finally going to get on that platform
on the 18th of next month,
for a first-time, one-time performance.
The once, seemingly impossible will come fully true,
which seems like a lot narratively.

It’ll be like leaving home—but we’re crashing out.
Moving on to other plot points, big topics and intense missions.
We’re all caustically optimistic.

Although there’s a cellular-level pull to move on
we can’t help but feel a hesitancy to jump into our multifarious futures.
We’ve never been improvident.

In my personal pool of experience, when I feel alone,
friendless and unseen, this unintelligible fear noise arises
and I'm tempted to tap out. But I never have.
.
.
Songs for this:
walk but in a garden by LLusion
What Dreams Are Made Of by Evann McIntosh
I Like You (A Happier Song) [feat. Doja Cat] by Post Malone

Poetry
is about the quest
for truth and beauty
not vanity

My heart is always heavy.
But is it full to the bursting
With joy and purpose—
Or self-proclaimed doubt
And pressure?
Am I full of sadness and
Misgivings, or fueled by

The love of my Father?

I saw the reflection in the glass—

The shape of cheekbones
And straight, drooping lashes--
Lips that parted in awe
As they saw the face that
No longer belonged to me—
Only God’s creation.

Huh,
Suddenly I think someone does care,
Huh,
They’re looking not just to stare,
Huh,
They actually notice me there,
Huh,
Are they actually admiring me?

Huh,
wow.
I never noticed the many
little beauties all around,
waiting patiently to be found.
Huh, I never noticed that flower in the drain,
resilient despite the rain.

Huh, life isn’t so bad is it?

the
greed
of
men
will
never
be
satisfied
and
we
will
never
be
enough