With a happiness so vast, it feels endless.
Like gravity you can’t see,
loud in its silence,
heavy in the stillness of presence,
restless in your core.
You never quite expect the way it turns,
how life redirects you
without warning.
And suddenly you’re here,
stuck
frozen in the same haze
of hope and grief
twisting together.
Grief that cuts deeper
when they’re still alive
but already leaving.
Like colors drained through filters,
you watch them fade
while you're sidelined,
paralyzed in despair.
But, there’s a sound
a persistent hum drilled deep
into the canal of your soul.
It doesn’t stop.
It reminds you:
your work is never finished.
There is no silence,
not even behind closed eyes.
Even in the dark,
you float
weightless,
projected beyond yourself.
I don't know rest.
I don’t know peace.
Yet somehow,
I still see the silence the intangible the unknown.
I still see everything.
All of it.
And sometimes,
it just hurts
to be alive.
