Frydeas - Poetry

Frydeas

What I once knew

10/28/25

It started with writing a birthday card,

And it ended up here

Hundreds of memories stowed away,

Some here to stay,

Interlocking hands with my rejected fear

To think about one thing,

Then to think way too much

Endless highways of everything I’ve vowed to forget

In a roundabout hot to the touch

Burned, my hands are peeling

I’m in tact, but I couldn’t feel more broken,

Picking up the pieces of everything I once knew, once was

Speaking words into my journal that wish to remain unspoken

Voids and pits I’ve filled with glitter,

Holes I’ve patched up with tickets and pictures and receipts

Temporary fixes to something missing,

Momentary bandaids to feel complete

A loved one that I didn’t lose,

But drove himself mad till he was lost

I think about this narrative

The double edged truths I may be sharpening to alleviate the costs

My home and the people that made it that,

A place that can’t be replaced by these new collectables

The polaroid roof cannot resist the rain,

The storms too strong, the sun too forgettable.

And as I sit here and think of all I’ve lost,

I worry for my mind and my back

How much more shit can I carry,

Through the years and tears and still be intact?

Not a pity party, just some questions

This is how I break down my mind

Matching loose ends with knots I made at eight

Journals and logics that have hugged me since age nine

I’m the same, but entirely different,

And everything that’s familiar feels like a stranger

Looking into my home and loved ones,

The new unfamiliarity of it all warns danger

What to turn to

When what I've known my whole life has left,

The bones are untouched, the house still up

The insides now empty, product of theft

And I search for new homes,

I try to make my very own

But nothing can equal the walls I once knew,

The floors my size 2 shoes roamed

And so I hold onto this thought,

And my journal does too

Together we carry the weight of what was, what is

Together, we bask in the beauty of what I once knew.

Flowers

3/5/26

I’m throwing my knives out like they’re flowers

The crowds screaming all the same

Because maybe if I draw blood from those who took mine

I’d find myself under only half the blame

Pointing fingers until they’re bruised

So I no longer feel the sting

Of the ones who love me the most

And the wicked poison that love can bring

Defenseless I’m bare

All my life I’ve learned the trust

But what happens when the hands you placed your heart in

Fade and turn to rust

How to watch the stars fall from the sky

When they once gave you the light to see

Forced into the forests where every ghost lives

The very paths that once set me free

Skipping rocks across the sea

As if it can interrupt the waves

Taming it into a pool of relief

Taming it into someplace safe

The curtains are now closing

There’s still nothing that I can do

Except bow and accept my flowers

And try to give the same to you

An April Fool

4/1/26

It’s April first and I wish so bad

that this was all one big bad joke

“fooled you,”

you’d say,

emerging from the nest of ash

burned door frames

and paintings

and the Christmas ornaments I’d hand make

hands traced

into cardstock cutouts

I’d sign my name proudly, because it was

and you were proud of just that.

I wish you’d stupidly yell

“April fools!”

throwing the lies

and text messages

never sent

into the discards I’ve found home in,

giggling in the corner

at how good of a fucking prank it all was,

sanity the butt of the joke.

We’d laugh foolishly with the ghosts

and every other cruel thing

of your creation

that haunts these walls

burning into my mind like

California wildfires

unstoppable

no matter how far I run,

the extinguisher a glass body

of gas.

I’d fall into my bed,

the pillow dry from baby

drool

and teenage

tears

warm from curved lips pressed against the stitching

Tucking myself under the covers

at peace,

high off the adrenaline rush, giggling at the absurdity,

I’d whisper to myself,

“It was all just a joke.”

April fools.

SOLD

4/6/26

FOR SALE

What a stupid sign

big

fat

red

letters

much

behind

Cars will slow down

When they see it,

On the streets

My tiny hands used to stamp

With chalk

Look guys!

I’d say

Smiling proudly at my picture

Beneath the triangle roof was

All four of us holding hands,

Pinks and oranges smeared

Like chocolate on my face

In the shape of bodies

thin as sticks,

Faces with two dots

And a U

Oh how I’d hate to tell her that

this was sold too

The price nothing

but painful memories

Soft spot

4/9/26

Blades

pointing upward and

outward

Suddenly subsiding under a breath

of light and words

You recite so gently

as if you knew me long

before

my gates were built

And when I want nothing

but to close myself

the unbreakable cage

of pained reflectivity,

I've named Safety,

like an obedient pet,

You overwhelm the rules

my guards retreating

every blade too

I’ve always had a

soft spot

for you

till I forget

3/25/26

covering me in empty kisses

till I forget

how I once saw the skies as pink,

nothing made sense with you,

but that was the beauty of it all.

intertwined fingers, we’d close our eyes

full of glitter,

raining sparkles to the trashed ground beneath us

as if flowers could bloom under impossible skies

trailing foreign bites along my neck

till I forget

our slow dance on rooftops we

shouldn’t have been on,

in the middle of streets that don’t know our name,

in front of concrete slabs we labeled as sand,

and boat-drawn ripples we called waves

passing the joint

till I forget

your whispers in the night,

the first time I felt a hand on my chest

the confusing warmth of it all,

like one of those electronic fireplaces,

something they’re not.

smoking the new one

till I forget

what the high felt like with you,

the stars in my eyes,

moonshine on my breath,

I’d blow out smoke in the shape of

your laugh

getting high off the new one

I thought that I would forget

I thought that I would finally be sober of you

my eyes are red,

my chest is too

and they will be

till I forget.

Dehydration

4/7/26

Point your finger till

it’s blue,

weathered from

your storm

You act as if it is out of your control,

puncturing your skies

and mind

helpless

I’m collecting remaining droplets

for nourishment

Sticking out my tongue like a

stupid Kid,

thirsty for what

little remains

While you dance through puddles

in empty streets

But I’m not fooled,

I know your throat’s parched

too.

Best friend

7/15/25

I’ve been avoiding you,

And by you, I mean my journal

I cry at my dad sending me a goodnight text,

The few happy things feel like a funeral

And maybe it is,

At the end of the day, it is a death

Of a family once whole, now broken

Yet another thing I have to accept

I’ve been turning by back to you because I’m scared

Opening you also opens my wounds

It walks me down the now dusty roads of memories

Where flowers of every color once bloomed

I’m tired of thinking and feeling so much,

And when I put my pen to you, this is what I do

My heart aches, my soul breaks

I walk away feeling twice as blue

Because maybe I wouldn’t have cried tonight

Maybe I could’ve been at peace

But I reached out for you tenderly,

My “strength” to confront making me feel weak

There’s so much to carry

The weight of myself and those closest to me on my back

So I fall on you even though I’m scared

I fall on you because you keep me in tact.

The truth is you’re my mirror

A reflection of every piece of me I’ve embodied and buried

The burning and turning

The baggage and bombs I carry

So with every breaking and building of my heart,

With every twist of a knife,

You’ll welcome my fear and hesitation lovingly,

Showing me how to live life

And it’ll hurt each time,

But each time, the pain will subside

Old scars will open and new ones will heal

Showing me that I’ll be fine

I’ve been avoiding you, I’m scared

Of the ink that bleeds from my pen,

Speaking my sadness and struggle into existence

And for that, you may just be my best friend.

The movies lie

2/3/26

Home

The movies show it glistening and calm,

A fireplace where the perfect poodle sits

Illuminated by comfort and generational love

The windows wide open, the candles well lit

How stupid this idea is,

Sometimes I curse it for its perfection

A world consumed by curation and all things good

Were they ever looking out for our protection?

For the kid that watched the screen wide-eyed and happy,

Consuming the content of smiling faces and sunny days

That the roof that sheltered these moments

Would crumble, and slowly, those smiles would fade away

Because how do you describe to a child that home may not be home forever?

How do you tell them that things like this can be temporary

How do you rupture their world of facades and highlights

And show them the dark underworlds, the bones homes bury

I can barely bring myself to understand it

Let alone, accept the fact

That the place I once thought would be mine forever

Has slipped from my vision, no longer intact

So, what do we do?

We make art, we tell the truth

Of homes together and homes apart

In hopes that we don’t destroy their dreams of what everything seems,

But rather, mend the not-yet-broken heart

Create stories that care,

And yes, in some twisted way this means they will hurt

Bold and unafraid to show how life truly is

The cruel and unforgiving way the world works

So one day when a kid goes into their home

And the fireplace is no longer lit

They aren’t overwhelmed with sorrow,

No surprises, not gaslit

The poodle is gone,

And their childhood is too,

But maybe if they had a representation of what this would feel like,

They could learn to feel half as blue

Shiny new toy

6/19/25

A shiny new toy,

Is that all a girl is?

To be exciting and new

Intriguing for a moment’s time

Dropped with no time for a proper burial,

The second he announced a new “great find.”

Wasn’t that what she once was?

And what the new one will become?

An endless cycle, absent of recycle

As perfectly perfect goods are dumped

When will he learn?

The soul crushing of betrayal and blues

The sour sound of nothing, bluffing

Your old toy still has a heart too

She had the last word,

But the pain lies in what he could’ve said

As everything he once wanted lived on the walls and desk

But has now found space under the bed.

Stowed away, but not forgotten

Burning into his dreams

His “shift of attention,” withdrawal of affection

Is not as logical as it seems

Why should you determine her place,

Why is it all on your call?

As she picks herself up, looks around,

Emerging from the nest of discarded plastic dolls

Who says she’s not still pretty and polished?

What if your eyes are the ones tinted and dull,

Locked inward in a barricaded mind

Fixated on what you can “pull”

Pull the weight of every new toy

Each shiny new doll you acquire

Dispose, suppose there’s better

And never get tired

Because she might be below the bed,

No longer the intriguing prize or sight

But a toy new or old is still a toy

And this I know could never be right.

2/5/26

My chest physically tightens up

Tears streaming down my cheeks

I feel stupid and young

Normally strong— but for you, I’m weak

In love with the potential

Some people call it a game

Heart versus mind,

As I move my chips to stay sane

Sometimes I wonder if it’s you

Your sweet face and world class smile

Or if it's everything you’ve represented

My capacity to love that I lost for a while

Everything ends in question marks

For something “meant to be” it all feels quite hard

As I dissect context, obscured in fact

While cradling the words spoken by my heart

Never thought about anything so much,

I keep wondering why this gets me down,

Where in the story my curiosity met delusion,

Deafening caution, muting its sound

My mind and heart are dangerous things

They lead me down roads I’ve never known,

I fear their power to break me

But revel in the flowers they grow

To be human is beautiful,

But to be me, even moreso,

So I’ll bask in the extremes of my soul

Carefully studying what the imperfections show

My chest will still hurt as I think of you,

And fireflies will illuminate my stomach as you walk through the door

I’ll thank my heart and mind for being so deeply alive,

Then I’ll quietly close our book,

In hopes of more.

Redesign

7/3/24

I’m compacting my words onto the page

Less than five left

I know all kinds of things,

But how to hold my breath

Painting my mind’s perfect world

Into one only I can see

The feeling that keeps me coming back,

The one that sets me free

The pen is under my control,

I can do whatever I want

Express my visions of reality in a new font

Is it manipulation? Is it a crime?

To keep confiding in a design?

In a fantasy where everything is fine?

Feeding delusion with a fork,

Lighting the torch

I could go inside to face the demons

But I find myself on the porch

The world stops turning as I turn the page

And slows its spinning as I free my thoughts of their cage

So if everything stops for a moment

As I break down my brain

And I learn to clean my stains,

Is it so wrong to return here, over and over again,

To reimagine the pain?

Break

7/3/25

Finally, a break

A split second to breathe

My world caught itself from falling,

I no longer hope to leave

Finally, a break

Is this what life tastes like?

Cruising down open paths

As I re-learn how to ride a bike

Hit the brake

Stop for a moment, let it drown you in joy

Take a look around, hear the sounds

Today is tomorrow’s toy

Hit the brake

If you continue on, you risk it all going away

Each path you cross, win over loss

Unrightfully forced into decay

Break

When I can no longer take it

When the pedals have failed me

When the fear to go forward

Overpowers the possibility of smooth sailing

Break

Because you need to

Because you’ve held it together all along

Because the brakes have broken

And there’s no more break to be strong

Broken

Aren’t we all?

A little damaged and used

Manipulated by the breaks we are given

Just for it to end, unpause, and bruise

Broken

Until the next break

Until we can restore who we used to be

So break, my darling, break

You’re not broken to me

My pen runs out

4/13/25

My pen is always running out

Like clockwork, like routine

When I reach for my notebook, eager to innerlook

And all writing tools are far from pristine

It makes me wonder— am I pushing it?

Am I overworking my mind,

Is this a call, to give it my all,

And look outward from nonsense rhyme?

To finally understand my head and heart

Instead of always trying to step outside

To really embrace all the words that race

Against a journal in which I hope to confide?

Is it overkill? Is it overthinking?

Is it an over-examination of life,

That not even my pen can sustain

The questions I have about wrong versus right?

I’ll keep searching for a pen,

I’ll use a marker or a crayon if I have to,

For the world up there deserves a chance to see the world right here too

Yes, this pen in all its brokenness will have to do.

This is what we see

1/7/26

This is what we see

Headlines and news posts

Emails and words on TV

Our friends speaking up, saying it’s all fucked up

Whispers on the street

Since when did reality become so twisted?

When the words of those in power are suddenly more powerful than the truth

That shit can be said, twice as more articles read

Yet they still sit on their thrones smiling— with one hell of a rooted tooth

The ground is coming up from under our very two feet

Many of us will not make it, many of us are the source

Of extinguishing that only knows color and background

Our dialect and beaten up shoes only making it worse

Their eyes bleed red

Our hearts burn in the same tone

Angry from the hatred, angry from the games

Angry from the way we’re forced to bow down to those monsters on the throne

Power comes from coming together,

Binding under a desire and helpless hope to make things right

But what happens when the crowds are growing cold and weary

What happens when we’re tired from sleepless nights?

Trailing backwards in the paths we once only recognized as onward

Downhill never felt so exhausting and hard

Death and deportation and decimation— denial

Words tangling with each other until our sentences come apart

We all deserve better

We deserve the dream that never existed outside of the imagination

The one of opportunity and equality

Where we’re always able to arrive at the same stations

But today I looked at my phone— and saw a murder of an innocent civilian

The killer’s blood running ICE cold

A press conference rinsing hands of the damage

A story so disgusting and flawed, yet, a story that managed to be told

And so we repost it, give it a like

Let people know we are educated and aware

Our engagement is bordered there, between acknowledgement and mourning

I know we all care

But we don’t see what happens after, do we?

We don’t feel the nausea kick in as we look at her empty driveway

We aren’t neighbors that will miss the way she greeted us each morning

Their worlds upside down, her’s gone, our’s sideways

As we stare into our little box of a screen

Windows into every version of reality and fantasies alike

Where we shed a tear or two, wondering how such things could happen

Chasing our tails until we find a way to make it right

There’s bite marks on every neck

I swear we are destined to run out of time

Swimming in a pool of our blood that continues to pump through raised fists

Even amidst our drowning cries

And so this is what we will do

We’ll read the news, we’ll read the lies

We’ll scream for those who have lost their voice entirely

Looking at the monsters’ twisted smiles with tears in our eyes

Headlines and videos will swarm our feeds

And we’ll be careful about what we believe

We’ll face the facts, the news intact

In hopes of creating a future of relief

Hope— what a passive term

And yet in a time like right now, it feels like so much more

When all is caged and controlled

Hope appears as the only open door

So let’s hope

And not in a rainbow and sunshine type of way

Let’s hope for tomorrow and the open doors

Let’s hope for blue skies beyond the rain

Let’s come together broken and bruised

Our wounds a painful sight

Scabbed with knowledge and healed with effort

Let’s continue to fight

And never stop

Until we’ve restored justice as our right

I'm a masochist

1/23/26

I’m a masochist

But not in the way you are probably thinking

I hate the pain I feel I am drowning in until moments later

My empty breaths feel magical amidst my sinking

I like the shattered pieces of my heart

The way they stab into my scratched up skin

Because maybe I like the way the pain reminds me of my capacity to feel

Sticking a pen in my hand, telling me to begin

I’m addicted to the art that flowers from my thorns

The way I dry my tears and excitedly jump to my notebook

That the very source of my devastation and confusion

Is reimagined as an opportunity to inner look

How it crawls up onto my back then gated consciousness

How I commit fully to the feeling

Romanticizing the ugly as something beautiful

As I listen to broken hearted music, staring at an endless ceiling

So I’m a masochist in this way

The pain feels pleasurable to me as I reinvent it as my own

Inflicted by the outside, now embraced fully in my arms,

Letting it in, letting it grow

Only 18

9/30/23

One more year older,

one more year of balloons and confetti

but beneath a celebratory surface,

I find myself asking, “am I really ready?”

ready to say, “I’m 18,” without hesitation

when people ask

ready to suit up and complete

adulting’s tasks?

face the facts?

I should receive a plaque

for always taking the simple nature of a birthday

and making it more than that

I once cried when I was little

I broke down to my mom saying, “I don’t want to grow up”

I wasn’t making it up

The door is still shut

as I drink from an aging cup and mean it when I say

I don’t want to grow up

because freedom is stunning

in a child’s bubble it’s sunny

not ready to endure the kinds of moments that make life a joke

because really it’s not funny

hit the ground running

what am I running from?

The clock is persistent

Time is consistent

crossing into a dimension where unpredictability glistens

Blowing out the candles,

Claps fill the smokey air

so many questions about tomorrow,

and I swear I saw myself sitting there

another year is beautiful,

but it’s also another year of what I didn’t do

Unlisted checkboxes that leave me empty

and blue

A fool.

That’s what I am.

And overdramatic fool.

the world’s time frame is not framing you,

it’s true.

open the cards

keep your tears clean

mourn and rediscover another age

you’re only

Two spaces up

5/9/24

I feel like a naive child,

twirled in her candy coated room,

broke the the mirror by accident,

shards everywhere,

holographic colors, a dull shade of blue

searching for the clues,

pinching cuts that feel like cavern-deep wounds

where have I gone wrong?

when it feels as though the uncontrollable is controlling me.

the ones I love used to love

snapped out of it

but there’s nothing I can do

I find a shard in my foot

the last place I’d ever look

yet I find the most unbearables of terribles

dug into myself.

I’m blind

I won’t notice these bitters

Until I actually take a look

to see the earthquakes I hate

are the exact ones I shook

candy cane lane lollipops and games

but I’m losing to an oblivious self sabotage

Draw a card, count my luck

Keep moving,

Next move: 2 spaces up

Glow, Go

9/7/24

I woke up this morning with the same song

in my head

Hoped it would be different to think of anything instead

But like a train without controls it

Passes through my head

Leaving me blue with a tainted color red

It’s like you're next to me in

Everything that I do

Once seemed so magical but now all it is

Is cruel

And I feel like a captive drawing in

Your memory pools

Like a fool,

Because the mirrors everywhere point to me

And point to you

And every friend who warned me was every

Bit of true

But I dove head-first without a life vest or a clue

Did I ever meet the best you,

The best you?

Questions lie under my covers,

They pave the punctured streets

Tumbling for answers gets tiring, but

Good for my two feet

If remnants were a text

You know I’d hit delete

But they’re not so I’ll make recovery

a treat

And on my morning walks on the sand

Along the coast

I’ll guiltily replay our love like my favorite late-night show

And I’ll remember missing you is illegal in my growth

But I’ll let the thoughts glow

Then finally,

Whole

12/16/23

I’m searching through loose-leaf paper

Frayed edges falling to the side

Desperate for the imprints

To know they’re not only in my mind

There is a note you left me

That's so damn hard to find

Seems like every little piece of you is running out of time

I tell myself its normal

I tell myself its fine

Tell myself no value, like a penny’s worth a dime

Today’s another day,

But another day thinks of you

Another day echoes your icy words

Sending goosebumps like a fool

I burn a candlelight

To demolish all the lies

To counter my mental montage

That treats you like a prize

I search for all the clues

That tell me you’re not the one

But like a girl who chases nightfall

I end up staring at the sun

I nestle in my bedsheets

Pull the blanket over my head

Hiding in the comfort of my comforter

Praying to not think of you instead

Driving through the city

Headlights blur the rainy road

I usually find traffic soothing

But this time it's swallowing me whole

I distance myself from noise

I embrace the peace of mind

And in this place of solace

You appear just in time

It’s not in the crumpled letter

It’s not in the candlelight

It’s not in the movie trailer visions

I so desperately tried to fight

It’s not in the traffic

Or the rain-covered roads

It’s not in the recount of words

I determinedly hand-sewed

It’s in the cloudy whispers

Of fog rolling over the hills

It’s in the solace of knowing that once you didn’t,

But one day you will

It’s in the sidewalk cracks

I once always had to jump

That now I step right on

Knowing I’m enough

In the patchy surface

Of the wind-chopped sea

Embracing me with crashy mist,

Informing me I’m free

In the eyes of strangers

With whom I’m not supposed to talk

In eyes that once saw so much

But now only see the clock

It’s in Life’s pressure

It’s in Life’s pleasure

It’s in Life’s calls that say enjoy the unpredictability of the weather

It’s in my newfound okayness

In my mind I once always tried to dull

Because in the strength to picture you

I can now picture me

And what makes me whole.

Stay

3/21/24

When everything feels so out of control

When your palms are left empty from a raining sky

Look me in the eye

And tell me it will be okay?

Take it day by day?

Good things are never on time,

Does that mean good things are late?

When the crowds around you feel like quicksand

And you feel like the person you need to beat

When you expect to do five-thousand backflips and still land on your feet,

Is it just me?

Prizes feel like betrayal and losses feel like fists

I’m becoming a pattern or number in a who-knows kind of list

Going through every motion but hey, I’m going through

Doesn’t matter what’s going on up here because up there

The sky’s always blue

Like I’m watching a movie of myself

Feels like a fly on the wall

Normally fastest to pick myself up

But these scrapes are burning extra from the fall

Twisted, spinning, I’m dramatic, I know

But don’t you also get to that point in your life where you have not a clue where to go?

When a single chain disconnects and breaks the whole fence

Allowing every hidden, rotting feeling to become present tense

When rest is a call for more work to be done

The weather predicted sunny but somehow, I can’t find the sun

It’s life, it’s always going to be this way

I know,

I know.

But don’t you ever wish to lock yourself in what’s known

And stay?

Chandeliers

9/7/24

Lonely dancers everywhere

Tiptoes keep it quiet

Heads down, bellies round,

The crowd’s just dodging a riot

Champagne glasses on the shelf

Unspoken words frame steady eyes

Down the stairs they went

Red carpets paving the way for lies

Crystal chandeliers

Tight-fitted gowns

The life they were certain they wanted

Was not the one they found

Chins high,

Worry even higher

This home is beautiful

Soon to crumble in raging fire

Liars.

Masqueraded as pretty guests

Growing shyer

As they realize they aren't best

Shattered plates

Gloves on the ground

A slow harp moans

But a crave for status deafened the sound

Broken invitations

Shredded on the floor

One

The fools flood the door

Purses and pearls

Blur in swift movement

Disgust stains every face

For this glittering mess

Is still not one they’d search to replace

Wine stains on carpet

Vases falling to the side

The rules that is takes to make it

Are the rules that they abide

Backs turned to simplicity

All eyes stare down fame

Life is a wild beast they were forced to tame

Walls crumble in their steps

And suddenly

All is lost and silent

An unfulfilled presence

Is a whisper turned violent.

If I told you about just about every thought

10/20/24

If I told you about just about every thought

You’d find a vast ocean, blending the horizon line through a hazy ambiguity

That same sea that casts a sunset of such careful intricacy

Ships decorate the water

Like beads on a braided string— make sure to knot the bottom, or else it will all come undone

My mind makes me seasick

But not like how it used to

Waters are just as high, currents just as strong

But somewhere between the waves, folding like fresh linen and towering like great sequoias

I’ve learned to navigate

Too often I sit back, my line of sight bounded by aqua dimples and a sky you’d swear is endless

And imagine the view from passing ships

How their sun melts into the sky at nightfall

How their clouds puncture the blue ceiling,

If it feels like a ceiling at all to them

I’ll lay upon the deck

As my body becomes immune to the turbulence below

Counting the patches of emerging white bubbles,

Squinting at the faded horizon line like it could part my head from my mind

If I told you just about every thought, would you want to hear it?

It’s ok

11/25/23

It’s ok

When commitment falls through already shattered ceilings

When your words haunt as dull, ghostly feelings

When I tell myself I am learning

but I’ve been learning for some time

When I conquer canyons of complexity not in conversation, but in rhyme

It’s ok

I tell myself this when I don’t know

Which way to go

Yes or no

Shouldn’t I know

This by now?

But it’s ok

The clouds will fall a warmer shade of grey

And I promise you those core-stinging bees are destined to fly away

The clock will persist, and you will too

And in a matter of minutes, you’ll feel like a new you

Your mind will be raw with unexplored seas, but see

Your structure isn’t going anywhere

You at 3 is you at 17.

It’s ok

It’s ok when there are crashing waves headed your way

It’s equally ok if your radar cannot detect nor relay

It’s scary

And you’ll never know the nature headed your way

How night falls into the abrupt emergence of day

How you blank when you have gold-weighted thoughts to say

How bonds woven like thread, without touching, may fray

How people concrete like bones must too face their decay

When life spills to the sides of a carefully curated tray

How you gave it your all, but you still have to pay

The footprints of yesterday are the uncertain trails of today

But to this I say, and know

It will be ok.

Moments

7/15/24

Do you ever wonder where these moments go?

If they fall away like hourglass sand

If they grow a pair of wings and fly

From the palm of my hand

Distant, unseen, these moments occupy the backs of my mind

Nestling in our hearts

Taking the stage,

Reminding us of their radiance

Each time we’re apart

The beautiful thing about

Moments like these is that they’re never gone, never too far

When the night’s darkness closes in,

They are the nearest star

Because these moments are quick,

Something we can’t quite hold

“Don’t blink” is what they say

“Remember this” is what we’re told

So when the moment flutters away,

Leaving a dust of magic and intimacy in its tracks

I will embark into the depths of my soul

And play it all back.

Had to go

6/10/25

I still think about you everyday

And part of me wishes I won’t

A reminder of what we had, it’s sad

Thinking that now we don’t

You turned your head the other way

Tears fell from your eyes

As I begged you to see where I was coming from,

To not make me the bad guy

But you did anyway,

Your back to my face

As I fought to keep our words preserved,

But you preferred them not to leave a trace

Yes, I’m the one that broke up

I am the guilty sayer of words spoken

But just because I was first to the truth

Doesn’t make me any less broken

And I’m mad at you sometimes

The truth is you’re the selfish one,

Blindly hearing my rewriting and rerouting

As everything being done

And I’m not crazy for thinking it didn’t have to be,

We could remain a small piece in each other's life

Have each other's backs, form a pact

Not stab them with a knife

So why couldn’t we be just that,

If I was ever more, you should’ve opened that door,

I don’t blame myself one bit for the contract

Or the glitter I used to decorate the floors

I ask myself, “what were we?”

And even after all this time, I don’t know

Your words and actions never agreed,

Call it greed,

I had to go.

For Cece and Zen

8/15/24

I heard once that the human brain

lives on for 7 minutes after death to

replay one’s best memories

While beautiful, I’m unsure if this is true

but if it happens to be correct, I know many of those

memories would be with

you

Life is full of turbulence

draining a flower to its wilt,

but among the clouds of everyday,

my sunshine lies in the friendship we’ve built

Unspoken words are felt deeply

our presence connected through our past

The kind of love that has me re-thinking unpredictability

and thanking the broken path

If I could do it all over,

live life number 2,

I wouldn’t change a single thing,

because every bit of it led to you

Holding hands through the thunder

Sheltering each other in heavy rain

Working through all of life’s weather

until every forecast feels the same

If home is where the heart is,

my heart is with both of you

Dimensions, worlds, lives in existence,

this,

the one where we’re all together,

is the one I’ll always choose.

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