you hold them carefully
the way a library guards
its late-night quiet
iris pulled tight around a dark
unwritten center
I look
and the room tilts
there is a city under your lashes
wet asphalt reflecting traffic lights
that blinked out twenty plus years ago
there is a boy standing on a sea wall
looking down at his watch
that never leaves his wrist
learning how silence feels
when it fills a room
a million little ghosts
wearing the clothes you used to wear
living in the spaces between your blinks
I see the map of every turn you took
and the quiet side streets
you wanted to walk but didn’t
triumphs no one clapped for
a hard word held back
a morning you chose
to pull the curtains open anyway
heartbreaks that never bled out loud
just turned to salt and settled
at the bottom of your throat
you blink
and the light shifts
a chapter closes
another page turns
over in the dark
you ask me what I’m looking at
and I want to tell you
I am standing at the edge
of an entire ocean
watching the tide bring in everything
you thought you had forgotten
The Creative Chic
Just beautiful, Jennifer! 🤗 🤗
Braden 🤗 thank you!
🤗🤗🤗🤗
You have that beautiful ease and delight like the waves that slowly pull you in, and then back out, and then back in again. ☀️🌊
Thank you! You’re simply the best (go ahead and sing along here)
Woohoo! Better than all the rest!!!!! 🎶🎵
I love the way this ends!
Thank you, Joe! Nice to see you!
I am so moved. So much or your poetry and other writings resonate with the romantic in me, or the optimist in me, or just the writer in me.
This one resonates with the boy in me. Through and through. To feel like I must “be” a certain way, to meet expectations but not to be authentic. To perform. Not feel. For it to be necessary to sport a toothy grin at all times despite the pain within…like a mascot…that’s what has been blinked out over the years.
To be visible and not seen is painful. To be visible and not seen while everyone believes you feel seen is painful and lonely. A ridiculously sad lonely.
I can tell you that only love can make you feel truly seen. Only love.
I’ve been seen for the first time. And what’s even more amazing is how much of me I didn’t even know I wanted to show.
Thank you. You have such a gift.
I’ve read your comment several times now, letting the weight of your words truly settle. The distinction you made about the difference between being visible and being genuinely seen, especially when the world assumes you’re already fulfilled, captures a very specific, devastating kind of solitude. It is a quiet, heavy labor to carry a smile like a mask, performing for others while the man inside just longs to put the mask down and rest.
Hearing you describe the profound relief of finally being witnessed in love, and the wonder of uncovering parts of yourself you didn’t even know were hiding, is deeply moving. That is the ultimate homecoming. Thank you for sharing such a vulnerable piece of your journey with me. To hear that it echoed the inner boy in you, and to know that you’ve since stepped into a love that sees you wholly, authentically, and without expectation, makes every word worth writing. Thank you for your vulnerability, your grace, and for letting me be a witness to your healing.
Beautiful CC
Thank you!
No problem, good work 🙂