Resilience
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This image was created with the assistance of ChatGPT, using AI-generated visuals based on a detailed description provided by me. Just as persimmons are sweet, orange fruits that grow on trees, When night comes, the terrible stars pierce holes in the sky. I hold the weight of stones in my chest, heavy, unyielding. Just as mountains
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A pessimistic idea of a loveless life; a fraction of love, a maker of laughs, a simple ignorance, a broken voice; living in stints of wind, reaching for mistakes when none have been made. It is all an idea, a mighty discussion of fragility, a torn record of history. There are those left in the
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A face carved from ancient bark, Eyes heavy with the weight of stars, In shadows deep, where green dreams spark, I stand, alone, with open scars. Branches stretch, my arms of wood, Reaching for skies that hum with light, A soul once lost, misunderstood, Now blooms beneath the quiet night. Centers pulse like hidden flames,
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My body, a marionette with severed strings. I drift like a ghost through a fog of memories. I walk. This body, not mine. This soul, adrift in time. Haunting echoes hide in hollow halls. I am not here. I am not whole. I am not seen. The night breathes softly against my skin. The mirror’s
One Way Life 