Out of Touch

You tell me so casually
To sit it out, to deal with it,
So that nobody sees the cracks
In the temple you built
Even if it tears me apart.

The Human Condition

Trying to pave my roads along the way
Because if dreams had a map,
They would still lead me off the beaten track,
They would thrust me into uphill battles,
Make me swim through murky waters,
And I would march through misery
Enchanted by the destination’s charm.

Afternoon Poets

For sleep comes when worry leaves;
It is too timid to confront the phantoms of the past.
Not us, though- we have laid there quietly,
Wrestling the noisy demons in our head
Till our limbs grew weary at the crack of dawn.

‘Tis the Szn: Navigating Anxiety and Depressing Feelings during the Holidays

If it seems like everybody came out of 2024 wearing tiaras and sashes while the only thing which keeps you from being empty handed is a string of disappointments, you are still heard and seen. If it feels as if the best part of the year is its coming to an end, your feelings are still valid.

Officially 18

It is daunting to be eighteen,
To be an “adult” on legal papers
When you have the meandering mind
Of a teenager;
To carry the unrelenting boulder
Of people’s expectations on your
Bruised and bent shoulders,
When you can just shrug at best
On being asked about future plans.

Breathe

And when I feel stuck in the doldrums of life,
When nothing seems to move anymore,
When I slip down the dark abyss of nothingness,
And my eyes simply don’t wish to search for the light anymore,
I take a breath.
I breathe in the air
That is moist with the tears of poets,
Ringing with the pain of musicians,
Whispering in my ears, the beautiful stories of many unpublished writers,

Wildflower🌼

The valley abounds in roses and tulips,
But I’m partial to those
That peek out of rugged rocks,
Showering in torrential rainfall,
You clap with the rumbles of thunder,
The montane breeze murmurs in your ears,
And you’re all but tickled by heatwaves.

Too Young

Clouds, delicate and feathery,
Dancing in the sky
To the beat of the winds;
Too wild to stop here,
Too young to know
Where to go next.

Live

Live for the flowers you haven’t seen in full bloom,
For the constellations you aren’t friends with,
For the dance of the Northern Lights on the skyline you haven’t been audience to.
Live for the cats you haven’t cuddled with,
For the dogs whose noses who are yet to boop,
For the birds you haven’t chortled along with.

Finding Myself

Scorched by the Sun,
Scratched by the thorns,
I walk through streets and woods alike
In a desperate pursuit.
Melting into a puddle of tears,
Freezing in the hold of a frigid numbness.
A lone wolf out for hunt,
Or perhaps just a helpless pup roaming in the city , barely alive.