poetry

you’ve survived worse with less.

you felt it too: the pause, the pull, the sense that everything made more sense beside me.

so when will you finally wait for god, instead of waiting for your idea of him to fall apart?

the rose never debates its beauty. it blooms. that is its argument, and its proof.

what is there to say, after the sky has fallen inward?

the liar fears silence more than judgment, because silence simply waits. and in waiting, it reveals. this is why he floods the air with words: to drown out the sound of truth breathing beneath his tongue.

there’s a cracked tile in my bathroom that looks like the map of a place. every time i shower, i trace it with my toe. strangely i've never wanted it fixed. i want to know why it reminds me of you.

it was love; because it made no promises and still it felt like a vow.

give me the struggle. give me the ache of becoming. give me the mornings where i wake unsure of who i am, but certain that i am not done. i want to remain unfinished.

mood

the sky has forgotten how to be blue. as if the colour would be too loud. & i don’t search for sunlight. & i don’t wish for the clear skies. i belong here. in the hush between drops. in the silence after thunder. i belong to an endless rainy day.

i’ve noticed that doing nothing is only relaxing when you’re supposed to be doing it. otherwise it is exhausting.

no one knew when the river changed its course. it simply began arriving from another direction.

how do you write that!

everytime!

we need imperfect stories. real ones. ones with uneven endings and people who tried. we need the kind of truth that makes us feel less alone, the kind of truth that shows us we were never broken in a way that mattered.

you barely need a plan for the next five years. you need to stop wasting the next five days.

the reason you’re exhausted isn’t that you’re doing too much. it’s that you’re betraying yourself in too many small ways.

strip away the electricity and all the other other elements of the civilization and beneath it all, the human remains. jealous, panicked, slightly violent, and strangely poetic when drunk.