february 2, 2026

the candle burned all night

the room is full of dolls

she had (two) bad dreams

the car drove away as i reached for the door,

my grandmothers gold watch, just paint, the photo.

that day was full of summer, full of ease, hope, a smile.

now a heavy weight of winter, that ice cold weight of it all, everyone is chopping at the ground with axes and shovels, we’re stuck, they say, “how are you doing out there?”

a person is awake while everything else is immobilized,
holding memory while the world asks for updates, instead of offering help.

I am out on a limb,
that keeps breaking,
I’ve done it all before,
and yet I just keep climbing,
climbing, climing,
just stop.

oh, you think so much,
oh, you need so much,
just stop.

and you don’t,
it’s just a simple quiet shut of the door,
a place that I have been so trained
to slam shut.