Steering Into the Storm
Simplifying
doesn’t make America less complex.
Or Great Again.
We are a supercar,
racing full-throttle
on roads paved with contradiction.
Precision tooling.
Satellite-guided comfort.
......
It was something about the waves
Rising strong and tall
Breaking soft and small
A sense of calm my body craves
It was something about the reflection
A distorted being holding me captive
A version of me that speaks in cursive
It’s easy to forget the mirror too is broken
......
No one tells you
that to grow
is to lose parts of yourself
you once protected like sacred ground.
Becoming is not a bloom.
It is an unraveling.
A quiet dismantling
of the person you thought you had to be.
......
Er is een stilte
die niets vraagt,
die gewoon blijft
als alles beweegt.
Je voelt haar niet met je handen,
maar ze weegt minder dan angst
en meer dan woorden.
Ze zit in een blik,
......
Is it possible to feel so fulfilled yet sit around and feel a hollow-feeling in your chest and heart?
To have everything you desire, yet still feel a sense of emptiness tearing you apart.
It's a strange paradox, to have it all but feel like you have nothing at all,
To look into the eyes of those you love and feel like a stranger in a foreign land.
The light that once sparkled in eyes now seems dim and faded,
The warmth that once filled your soul now feels cold and jaded.
You reach out to hold someone close, hoping to feel their heart beat with yours,
But all you feel is a sense of detachment, like you're on distant shores.
......
Steering Into the Storm
Simplifying
doesn’t make America less complex.
Or Great Again.
We are a supercar,
racing full-throttle
on roads paved with contradiction.
Precision tooling.
Satellite-guided comfort.
......
No one tells you
that to grow
is to lose parts of yourself
you once protected like sacred ground.
Becoming is not a bloom.
It is an unraveling.
A quiet dismantling
of the person you thought you had to be.
......
Er is een stilte
die niets vraagt,
die gewoon blijft
als alles beweegt.
Je voelt haar niet met je handen,
maar ze weegt minder dan angst
en meer dan woorden.
Ze zit in een blik,
......
Sie sieht,
was nicht ihr gehört.
Ein Blick,
der sich nach Wärme streckt,
die woanders brennt.
Es ist kein Hass,
nur dieses leise Ziehen
unter der Haut,
wenn Nähe
......
Du siehst mich an
ohne Urteil,
und doch spüre ich etwas sich bewegen
hinter deinem stillen Blick.
Jeden Morgen treffen wir uns hier,
du und ich,
zwei Gesichter desselben Körpers,
die versuchen, einander zu verstehen.
......