anthology

happiness is precarious 

sometimes, only vicarious

but as the pages of my journal fill

time stands ever so still

finding solace within every word

every story, i feel heard

a collection from my imagination

for all to see, my inspiration

as constant as the ocean’s depth 

words magically intertwined, like an exhaling breath 

she and i wondered, what was the agony for?

now i realize, my anthology tells stories i never would have before.