there is no final draft.

it is okay if other people become who I wanted to be.

it is okay if they master my half-developed talents

or realize my half-begun dreams.

it is okay if they live the life I wanted to live.

I will visit them daily

at the altar of forgiveness.

it is okay if others outshine me.

it is okay if words spoken in bitterness become true

so long as I come to love the truth.

maybe I won’t try to be who I am anymore

because I don’t know who I am.

perhaps I will not mind if others misunderstand

because I do not understand either.

maybe losing is letting go

and letting go is becoming.

when there is nothing to say

What do you say
When there is nothing to say?

What can you conclude about
What you can’t fathom?

How do you cheer someone on
When you can’t imagine their pain?

How do you thank someone
When you can’t imagine their sacrifice?

In times like these
I want for wiser words…

Words wide enough to encompass
All that was loved and lost.

youth

to be young 
is a frightening thing.
it means coming up against 
all the darkest
things of life:
death
loss
grief
loneliness
despair
before you’ve had the chance
to understand what they mean.
it means facing certain facts:
the ones you love most 
you must someday let go;
you will never be the child
you once were;
nor are you likely to become
what you once dreamed of being.
it means staring into your remaining years
as an unfathomable abyss
& fearing what change
what loss of current circumstance
may take place therein.
it means realizing that: 
the words you least want to listen to
are those you most need to hear;
joy and loss
are in fact one and the same;
your tears are the bridge
between your most treasured moments
& the knowledge of their impermanence;
all things of this world will fade
& clinging to them cannot prolong the inevitable;
running away only brings you closer
to the thing from which you run;
& the only way for pain to end
is to feel it as deeply as you can
for as long as it wishes to be felt.