Poem of Life

Heart from a great distance—
we try to reason with a dead mind that still carries knowledge.
Wonderful, right? But the eyes feel wrong.
waves crash out of rhythm,
the mind wears the wrong color and the skin isn’t what’s affected—
It’s the slow turning gears of thought.

I’ve seen enough to pay attention to myself.
my freaking self—
and still the demon stays back, refusing to move closer.
just sucking out a few words at a time.
We’re still balancing on styles from the weak side.
Mood hazy, smoke drifting like it owns my head.

Don’t worry about it—
we loan out our soul sometimes just to hear
One fun word of advice:
Don’t look back.
Because you might turn to salt
from the feelings you never learned to release.

More of my head feels like it’s calling me out
for being too careful,
aging slow,
picking up ideas I couldn’t practice when I had the time.
Fast in the heart, slow in the eyes that aren’t clear.
Maybe these feelings could be written
like a dangerous time you exit from
while still half-awake.

Maybe moonlight could brighten the view—
not driven from my point,
just arranging low-quality memories
and testing them for truth.

I’ve lived through a time when my feelings came before everything else.
When every sweet thought felt like a doorway—
a quiet place where I could hide and breathe.
I believed in those thoughts too easily, maybe.
But they were the only things that held me together.

There were days when a single idea warmed my entire chest.
a soft heat rising up like a moan caught somewhere
between relief and longing.
I didn’t say it out loud.
but my body knew it.
the way the mind knows a secret
before the mouth ever speaks it.

I kept putting myself into these thoughts—
imagining better versions of me,
simpler versions,
freer versions.
I trusted the sweetness because the world outside
felt too sharp to hold with bare hands.

But that was my time—
a time of believing in small comforts,
of letting my feelings guide me through
all the places life forgot to soften.
And in those quiet, shaky moments,
I learned that even the faintest thought
could echo loud enough
to carry me forward.

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