Inheritance
The mirror carries a debt I cannot pay:
a jawline etched like old hymns,
eyes that pool with the same insistence as her rainstorms.
She taught me to sew scars shut with words,
but every thread unravels in the moonlight.
How much of this face is hers?
How much do I owe the past?
A Manual for Falling
1. Begin by letting your shadow fall first.
2. Forget the name of the sky before you meet it.
3. Gravity is a lover who doesn’t ask permission.
4. Land softly in someone’s memory.
5. Break beautifully.
The Language of Birds
They warned me in songs
stitched from rain:
a robin’s cry unravels disaster,
sparrows knot sorrow under their wings.
The finch spoke of something else—
a joy I could never catch.
I tried.
Now my hands hold feathers and wind.
Every Home is Haunted
The chair still creaks where he once sat.
The table tilts its shadow toward
a time when laughter held us
like strong rafters.
Every ghost here
wears the scent of something burnt—
toast, bridges, promises.
We live with them anyway.
