Your fading presence will one day leave a hole in my life I’m not sure I could fill again.
You walk through my life with gentle steps, in shoes none other can fit.
One day the footsteps will become quieter. I’ll strain to hear them, and a sad echo will surround each distant tap.
.
July 12, 2025
(Reflections on a friend and predicted futures.)
I’m tired but I’m happy.
There’s no belonging or being out of place today. There’s just whatever days remain for me, and those around me, and the fortune that these still intersect.
Tonight, as I retire, I’m filled with more gratitude than I know what to do with.
June 12, 2025; 10:35pm
The day is almost over. The moon is almost full. My mind is getting closer to quiet, and brings me no poems.
Everyone breathing along with me are one day closer to the end today.
As I close my eyes, all I can think about is how much I love them.
11:30 p.m. thoughts as I begin to drift off to sleep.
Sometimes I find some hope for myself to become deserving of my life when I find myself changing auto-correct’s assumed “love” back into “live” for what feels like the hundredth time in recent months, and I realize that I communicate far more about loving than I do about living.
I recently saw a stranger online saying that there’s two kinds of loneliness.
She said there’s loneliness of being without someone. That’s the kind most think about or mean when they hear or use that word, and it’s certainly not a good feeling.
She went on to say that there’s another kind of loneliness…
I feel so guilty just for being alive.
I’m not right in the head and I think I never will be.
I just need to get this out tonight.
The savage and I are at odds again today.
But, today, I’m not pacifying it. I refuse to play by its rules.
I will not coddle it, cuddle it, kiss it on its forehead today.
Today I resist. I argue. I rail against its every move.
.
June 3, 2025
I should have learned by now
I should know better by now
Why will I never learn?
To my future self:
I will admit, I’m a little curious to meet you, but you are quite probably the biggest coward I’ve ever known.
Maybe, just maybe, I’ll be thankful later for your lack of conviction this year.
I cried three times in under twelve hours.
Maybe that’s some sort of progress.
That, or I’m getting worse…
I can’t tell.