The Power of Done

Soul usually knows when to heal itself 

The challenge is the heart and head. 

The heart keeps maps to places  

that burned the house down.  

Calls the ruin "home"  

and begs to move into it.

The head builds courtrooms  

out of maybes and what ifs.  

Puts the past on trial  

but never lets it rest.  

Heart negotiates and thinks

The noise of the trials by head 

Is the process of healing 

Meanwhile the soul 

quiet in the corner

already packed its bags,  

left the door cracked,  

and whispered

"come on, we are done here"

The soul doesnt need 

a verdict to move on.

it only needs an exit.

Luxury Impact

​They press a kiss against the brick

A gentle breath before the blow.

Its the only love that comes our way

The kind thats aimed to lay us low.

​They tied it with a satin bow,

To keep the impact "high-end" though.

Noise of Doing Nothing

Everyone needs more than

anyone can give right now.

We ask oceans of half-filled cups.

In a world where 

nothing feels steady enough to hold,

The threat is not stillness, 

but the noise of doing without being.

Haunted by doors we didnt open, 

lives we didnt choose,

afraid something better 

is always slipping past us.

Hearts unanchored, 

learning to brace in empty spaces.

We reach with salt stained hands 

toward each other,

and call it enough when someone stays.