Reflection
-
4:00 a.m. Some nights sleep doesn’t come. Tonight, this did. I missthe heavy kind of quiet. The kind that settledafter a bowl,when my body finally unclenchedand my face felt warm,like gravity had loosened its gripfor just a little while. For a few precious hours,every muscle surrendered. My thoughts stopped sprinting. The ache became a whisper.…
-
There are nightswhen the world expects meto carry everythingwith steady hands. The memories.The grief.The questionsthat never learnedhow to answer themselves. So I step outside. The air is cool,the stars indifferent,and the lighter clickslike the beginningof a conversation. The smoke doesn’t promiseto fix me. It doesn’t erasethe empty chairs,the court dates,or the namesI still whisperwhen no…
-
Some call it escape. Maybe they’re right. But sometimes it’s the only place my shoulders remember how to unclench. The world demands I carry grief like it’s weightless. Cannabis asks nothing. Only, “Sit for a while.” So I do. I breathe. I watch thoughts stop colliding long enough to hear my own heartbeat beneath the…
-
I hope you wonder if I’m thinking about you. I hope my name finds its way into your quiet moments, when the world finally stops asking so much of you. Because that’s where you find me. In the silence. In the songs. In the spaces between heartbeats where missing someone feels louder than words. If…
Between Bruises and Blooms 