Slow Fade
Slow Fade
S. Ambrose, 2024
Grieving the breathing can look like dying petals
Falling from a sympathy bouquet.
Scattered, Unable to find its graveside casket to lie upon.
Senselessly, connections wither away.
Radiant Resilience
I move through the world like I carry a spark, a fire I wear on my sleeve. I’ll share my light for anyone brave enough to see it. I’m not afraid to show the raw parts of me, to throw my heart out there and let the world decide if they’ll catch it or turn away. But with that kind of openness, comes a need to guard my peace. I’ve learned the hard way that I can’t sell my soul. No price, no person, no compromise is worth that. Life? It’s a rhythm I’m still figuring out. Sometimes I catch the beat, other times I’m just trying to keep up, searching for where I fit in all this chaos. I often feel like I’m out of place surrounded by people with no soul or those too stuck to grow. So where do I belong? Not among the machines stuck on repeat. I don’t belong at a table with those who can’t see the beauty in creation, who can’t feel the magic of believing in something beyond mere survival. I’m somewhere in between looking for those who can hear the music over the noise. I’m at home with those w...
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