you put on a brave face
for me. for us.
but i’m choking.

(can’t you see?)

it’s killing me;
this pretending. like
you’re still just as
brave? we both
know that’s
not true.

ignorance is bliss
but having to ignore is

and as you walk out
the front door,
for me, for us,
i don’t know how
not to notice your 
hands become

and frailer.

(i can’t let you see.)




it ok to wonder
about the days
we spent planning for
the days ahead
like alright,
it was wrong
to think you can



perhaps peoplesad
& priorities

don’t go
as well
as I’d
& that’s
supposed to be



Figured Out.

Better a cruel truth than a comfortable delusion.
― Edward Abbey

perhaps uncertainty is not so foreign after all
and we remain determined in proposing
that you and I reside in a place far more
orderly but look around to see the crowds,
a messed-up mass of people voicing this
confusion to sound all normal, like lying
to ourselves has become so supremely
human that you and I abide to those who

rise above others
proclaim beyond measure:

“we’ve got it all figured out.”

oh we, practitioners of delusion,
have perfected our methods, at last. 


p.s.  featured image is the
 japanese symbol for ‘truth’


there were
of how
you broke,
long enough
for it to begin
to sting. 

i live casually,
a casualty.
no matter;
there was
a need for
this to be

of course.


( p.s. on a weirdly-timed vacation atm..hope to have more (non-poetry) posts soon! ^^’ )



merry go round.
there are places to be
and the night drags on
till we are much too tired
for being anyplace but here
and now, listen to the hum of

this ride remain, ever-long.
for there are places to be
and perhaps, 

no dawn.



what is it about moments lost.
sought our own demise but
we are riders of the league of
hopers. no more can be said
of the lost in their shells,
thinking they are riding to battle
but moments ago we too were
a league of the demised.

You sigh as the clocks tick by.



prompt: “by the light of the moon” 

by the light of the moon
who is to say you are not as bright as it?
who is to know you as you; moored
by the echoes of his or her or their
by the light of the moon
you come and go.
but who is to bear your



Here, There?

here, there; where are you now? 

All was lost when you would not be found

We are the outcomes of those hopeful tales

Hope was lost when you could not be around.

here, there; where will I go now? 


(p.s. school assessments = infrequent blogging :'( )