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Sadness isn’t always obvious. Sometimes it shows up quietly, more like a fading feeling than something sharp. It can feel heavy, or just kind of hollow, like there’s a gap where something used to be, even if you can’t quite explain it. It has a way of making you slow down and pay attention. To what hurts, to what’s missing, or to things that...

**The Heart of a Tempest** A storm within, a raging, endless sea, Where waves of anger crash eternally. A heart of stone, a soul of iron cast, Forever bound to this tempest, forever fast. The pain, a viper, gnawing at his core, Leaving wounds that fester, evermore. Rage, a wildfire, burning fierce and bright, Consuming reason, plunging him in...

We suffer together - Some more, some less And the less console Themselves with how They aren't the more. We have aids and We are blind and We rot in gutters. Would it be rude If I prayed for us? I remember myself When I see you there And I wonder if We can make it to An elegant solution. Like a beautiful song Plays on human breath By means of a...

In Buddhism, there is a belief in the inevitability of suffering... which is conquered only through reincarnations, overcome only by attaining Nirvana. But I believe that love is a balm- it cannot undo pain but serves as a reminder that for every act of violence, there are others - of kindness, of charity and though many are...

He stands alone, an obelisk beneath the sun, his hands still blackened from the tar’s old murmur, the shovel, stiff like history, resting at his side. The street is silent now, the fracture filled, its gaping maw of ruin smoothed, a sleek insignificance to all who pass. They will not notice. They never notice— the absence of damage, the absence...

On a wave above the Moon a crimson silence froths Makes you forget yourself and hurts when you can’t laugh For when you try to touch the Moon but glide a little past This silence is forever and rhymes ‘a broken heart’

Rooted in place, too many things pulling at it. Instead of being nourished, it gives and gives. It withers, draws itself inward, yet the roots are still searching, still trying to give of themselves. It tore itself up by the roots and flew off, not knowing where it was headed. It crashed straight into a wall and fell to the ground. It lay there...