it’s messy
and chaotic
and things you think should happen
don’t always happen
and things you think you could never happen
sometimes timing is off,
sometimes you just miss it—
but if it wasn’t so hard
it would mean so much
when something
finally feels right

past and pending

to be able to remember everything

so vividly

is a blessing and a curse—

you can be at the top of a mountain

and the bottom of the sea


past and presents

only words–

each moment

just a part of the precarious

masterpiece in progress.