June 2026

How will it go when I’m gone?How will my loved ones grieve?How can I help?all to knowthat my lovewill go on

Grief is a funny thing,and by funny I mean it feels like getting hit by a truckloaded with hot-sauceas the sun eclipseswhilst the shards of glass litter your backand you forget how to breathagain and again. It weighs on the souldemanding attentiontender lovesafetyand a reminder that Life Goes On. I’m sitting here on the floor…

When it comes to packingI try to fit it all,even if it’s just a backpackfor a trip to the strip mall.In the summers I fly to spainto go to the beach with my family,and for the third time in a rowa stewardess told me “lo debes haber facturado”,you should have checked that,as I squeeze myaptly…

Birds fly,twice I criedto celebrate their joy-ous,us,we could be like themonce we leave the nestwe,we – could be like themright?Though I don’t know if I’m flapping wingsor already taken flight.

Where did everybody go?I thoughtbeing there for youmeant,you would be there for me. All the hard days,all the long nights,your days of strife with friends in sightsurely would teachour communal might,I thought,things were going well for you now.At least,well enough to exist around mewhen I am far from best,to share some painso I can rest,and…

Why use big wordwhen small word do trick?Why fill a cuppast the brim?Too much rush, too much stress,too much hate, we could do less.Too much cash, too much work,too much waste, the worst might lurkat our backs,as we sleep,whilst one walks down a street,fear of what we all have donewhen we just needpeace.

I don’t know what going on right now,I’ve only just arrived,but I have not one, bead of sweat,there is no do or die

To write is a giftto me and myself. To share is the workI do for everybody else.

Abundance aboundsyet no peace is found,the rain,it smellslike trees.

Sing song birds cry,the fire burnt it all down.Not one inch of branch for restnot one cool spot of ground.The flames have yet to subside,time has yet to tell if they will,I’d like to think the spread is slowingas I peel my calloused feet.I didn’t realize at firstwhy it hurt to cool off,the fire creeps…

I feel like everything would changeif I’d take that next, breath.

I’m searching for some doldrumsto temper my steel I fear, something realer is near.

I’m not sure why I poke you thricewhen your mind is all made upof outdated ideas,misexpressed apprehensions,and conventions of doing, not what is rightbut what feels safeto you.

Varying degrees of self composure,two ways to look right. Creator of my own misadventures,deceptic cons of times gone. Trying to find peace in a spaceship.Trying to replace my left hip. The time returns.It’s twelve thirty. Time for sunwhile I eat.