The Doors of Forever
The wedding aisle stretches before you. Family and friends stare at you as a hush hangs in the air. Answer truthfully. Don’t let euphoria blind you in this decision.
The wedding aisle stretches before you. Family and friends stare at you as a hush hangs in the air. Answer truthfully. Don’t let euphoria blind you in this decision.
I felt it the moment I walked in: the distortion in the air, a heaviness thick with unhappiness, leaking from the people. Whatever light I carried began to drain.
Bones creak like century-old floorboards and in that hush between alarms, the room holds its breath.
A quiet confrontation with the life you’ve settled for, and the moment you realize the choice was always yours.
When love is wounded by the one meant to protect it, and the long silence that follows.
The moment you realize you traded your life for titles, plaques and a paycheck; and what it feels like to walk away.
What if darkness isn’t the enemy but the origin of everything worth becoming?
An ordinary evening that quietly becomes something you don’t want to end. And why those moments matter most.
The kind of quiet that settles in when the week finally lets go and earth reminds you to breathe again.
That unsettled feeling when something’s off and you can’t name it. A poem about the self we haven’t yet met.