I don’t see you any more, your lights dimmed amidst the glow of others.
Play harder than you worry.
Your kindness matters.
I fell apart today picked up the broken pieces, quickly taped them back up, went on my way.
Perhaps it's time to flatten other curves.
I stopped, met my deadline...
Amidst the panic/ the anxiety choked hearts...
What will he say when he remembers this time?
But 15 months ago I was in crisis.
What a difference a year makes. I can only watch from afar, the devastation greater than I can fathom. Using numbers doesn’t help me understand the magnitude when it’s ten and one hundred times bigger than my closest reference. And even that I cannot comprehend.
Smooth and round the disc fits in my palm, the perfect spot to rub my thumb over. It soothes my tactile self.
I watched her disarm a bomb.
Angry words spoken,
with fingers in personal space.
Start. Fail. Restart, get a little further. Fail.
“I’m a mistaker,” he says, stopping me cold in my steps, all my attention on that small sentence.
Our dreams flow
as we pour out our hearts,
but it doesn’t go as expected.
The dynamics work against us,
trying to erode our paths,
no matter how we shore
and build up our banks.