December 28, 20171 min read

I’m not going to start this piece with a typical explanation as to why I wrote it. I won’t start off with the phrase “I wrote this poem because…” and I won’t try to justify it in any other way. To be honest it was just me being overwhelmed. In the midst of an existential crisis I caught myself in a rut thinking about feelings and the fact I have to keep giving, what’s it worth? It took a bit of time, but there’s still something out there worth fighting for, regardless of the debt and the collection of memories, pain and love that we’ll leave this Earth with.

The habits of life are at

odds with me, built on nothing

but the cost of feeling.

All my tears shed,

accumulating like

individual drops for a


I’m left with a debt.


Each penny paid

Back, every weight


is one I lift alone,

God and words.



Without knowledge and

an idea, I can

start to make things suddenly


but everything then matters, all too much


Uncertainty builds

on skin, bones, hair,

until an entity is


of dust.

Laughter, the

corners of my mouth creased up in

smiles, exists as the same. The

pitter-patter of


becomes hollow,

without habit.


We need the build-up of love and pain.



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