Skip to content

Category: On Vulnerability

Luck Stuck In Reverse [Poem]

I remember you telling me
you met him
in a coffee shop

You went to get a drink
and thought it’d be nice
to see if he wanted one too

I simply can’t fathom
What luck like that
Must feel like

To be sitting; working
And be unintentionally chosen
By the rarest of butterflies

You tell me this
As we navigate broken rock
Near thundering falls

Where missing a step
Could mean broken bone
Or at least red cheeks

But I don’t miss
Not a beat; not a step
Not a single strain in thought

I’ve become numb
To this sort of pain
Luck stuck in reverse

I glance forward
You settle your wings
On a flower I’d never have seen

I glance back
Sun, river, flowers—this butterfly
Maybe luck is made?

Our path together ends
You float to bench nearby
And stop me from walking away

I smile; remember the coffee shop
And decide to say it anyway
Let’s do it again sometime

Knowing damn well
This butterfly
Is getting away


P.s. You can read the other poems I sometimes write here.

Real—Not Reel

Most people have ugly parts in their story.

Most people suppress those ugly parts and share beauty on reels instead.

The thing about beauty reels, however, is that they generally stop at the surface.

And what most people crave, now more than ever, is that which goes beyond the surface.

What most people yearn for is a closer look at what’s been suppressed… what’s behind the beauty… the very thing which you thought you had to hide…

What most people want to know more than anything else is that you, too, have ugly parts in your story… that they’re not alone… that you’re imperfect too…

They want to know what makes you REAL—not a reel.


P.s. I’m on a mission to help busy people do inner work—to help them live better lives. If these daily pieces have impacted you, you can support my ongoing work here. Thank you 🙂 ☕️

The Cloud That Never Rained

Imagine the cloud that always held on to its rain.

Imagine the weight; the effort; the burden.

Imagine the hardened soil, dehydrated plants, and barren landscape.

Now, image the person who always held on to their pain.

Imagine the weight; the effort; the burden.

Imagine the hardened interactions, dehydrated relationships, and barren lifestyle.

Maybe holding on to the pain isn’t the most beneficial thing to do (so that others don’t experience the pain you’re holding).

Maybe releasing the pain is the most beneficial thing you can do.

Maybe it’s the vulnerable release that’s needed for your gray clouds to clear away.

Maybe it’s the feeling of a more authentic human experience that the barren landscape of our lives are craving more of each day.

And maybe the best way to do this isn’t to release above the umbrella walkers who are seemingly allergic to getting wet—but to share the experience of feeling the rain with the people who jump in puddles and know that clothes dry.


P.s. Thank you to Belinda for the coffee. This post was fueled by your generosity. 🙂

Hiding [Poem]

Isn’t it funny
How we hide our faults
And then wonder why
It feels like
Nobody
Really sees us

Connecting Points

We don’t form connections over what’s perfect, we bond over what’s imperfect.

Remember this when your trials result in error, mistakes, and failure—those are connecting points, not disconnecting points.

Live Unbroken [Poem]

Maybe
our real nature
isn’t to live unbroken.

Maybe
our real nature
is to continuously break down
until all that’s left
is what's real.

Love Hiding

You never know
who would love
the person you hide.
And you'll never find out
so long as you stay
in hiding.

For hiding isn't selective.

Hiding hides you
from everybody's sight.
And if the person
you were meant to love
sees the person
you're only pretending to be—

would they recognize you?