They arrived at the destination
without speaking,
without exchanging anything.
Because the destination
was still far away
in their minds.
But in their hearts,
they believed
they had arrived.
They set their burdens down,
felt their shoulders loosen,
light for a moment.
Then incompleteness returns.
It follows you,
pulls you downward,
deeper,
and deeper still.
Until someone shakes you awake.
And you rise,
wondering,
was I dreaming?
You can be happy now.
Not tomorrow.
Not after fixing everything.
Now.
Smile
the kind that doesn’t ask permission.
Laugh
even if it surprises you.
Dance
not like a star
but like someone
finally alone
with their own body.
Let the sky
watch you
without judging.
Let the wind pass by
and not explain yourself to it.
You don’t owe the universe
a performance.
Be one
with the person
who wakes up inside you
every morning
before your name does.
You call it your soul.
I call it
the one who waits.
When that soul
stands at your doorstep
unannounced
hands empty
eyes tired
would you open the door
or pretend
you are not home?
The door of my heart
is not always open.
It closes
on busy days.
On loud nights.
On days I forget myself.
But on weekends
and slow holidays
when time loosens its grip
I leave it unlocked.
No conditions.
No explanations.
If you’re coming to stay
come gently.
This is where the quiet things live.
The unfinished dreams.
The soft fears.
The beautiful mess.
If you’re looking for beauty
you won’t find perfection here.
You’ll find
someone
still choosing to let themselves in.
Just like you.
I told you
I would pay your debt…
and give you freedom.
Not
to buy
your love.
Freedom
should never
come with receipts.
But if love never comes…
if my name
never finds a home
in your mouth,
if my absence
feels lighter
than my presence…
then let me remain
the debt
you never finish repaying.
Not in money.
In memory.
In the quiet moments
when freedom asks you
who
paid
its price.
Some people…
teach you how to smile
when you had forgotten
how to smile.
Some people…
don’t teach you to cry.
You just see them crying.
And somehow
you learn.
Some people hold your hand
and leave
too soon.
It’s alright.
If they held me any longer
they wouldn’t have reached
their destination.
Some people come and ask,
“Are you alright?”
And while you are explaining
what happened…
they are already
walking away,
turning into
distance.
Some people praise
how good you look,
and in the same breath
they want something from you.
Their compliments
are hooks.
Your story stays hidden.
They only read
the cover
of your book.
Some people inspire you
to build a rocket,
to leave the ground,
to touch space…
And the very next day
they change direction
because a cat
crossed their path.
Some people invite you
with such a warm smile
you feel like leaving with them.
But when you arrive
their minds are crowded.
Locked.
No space to sit.
So much clutter.
So much chatter.
Words melting,
like butter…
but saying
nothing.
And some people…
never say anything.
They stay distant.
Smile from a corner.
Pray for you.
They never come too close.
You won’t remember them,
because they never ask
for anything.
Except one call
when you are not well.
One night, in my dream,
Mike Tyson asked
if I wanted to box with him,
real boxing.
I said,
no need.
My home is a boxing ring
where punches happen every day
with her.
Tyson laughed
and disappeared.
Another night,
a monkey asked
if I wanted to visit the zoo
to see him.
I said,
no need.
My partner hasn’t been to the zoo
for a long time.
She says she sees monkeys
every day
in the house.
The monkey laughed
and disappeared.
One night,
a gardener called
and asked
if I would like to plant good dreams.
I said,
thanks.
I already have the seeds.
I got them
while procrastinating.
They said…
me and your aura don’t match.
I said,
okay.
And just like that,
we didn’t argue.
We didn’t beg.
We didn’t fight the universe.
We moved on.
Not because they said so,
but because we understood each other
so well
that staying
would have been disrespect.
Some understandings
don’t come with explanations.
They come with goodbyes.
A new chapter waits.
The new year stands nearby,
holding a red carpet.
No…
we are not celebrities.
But we have self-respect.
We know we are valued.
I respect your decision.
You stood up from the chair.
You kissed me
like it was your final line.
You waved goodbye
the way people do
when they already know
they won’t return.
Still…
I dream of crossing your path someday.
And I will smile at you.
Not asking
for a smile back.
Not soon.
Maybe months.
Maybe years.
Maybe so many years
or never again.
Thank you
for the memory.
Because maybe,
at the very end of my life,
I will be touching a frame
where two souls are smiling.
And I will whisper to myself…
That…
was the smile of a century.
You all are sold,
the aliens told me.
I said, “At what cost will you buy me?”
Aliens said,
“More than any bank can offer.”
I said, “Is it a loan?”
“No real money.”
Me: So what should I do with it?
“Do whatever you want.”
Me: What if I need
something more than money?
Aliens: What do you want?
Me: Leave your spaceship to me.
They went back to their spaceship,
silently,
without a word.
Hope they’re having a meeting about it.
If love could be bought at a discount,
and hearts could be sold,
how would I get rid of my bike
that’s grown too old?
You can’t kill us anymore.
You’ve already slaughtered thousands of souls.
Your hands are stained,
soaked in the blood of the innocent.
No soap can wash it off.
No water remembers you kindly.
Tell me.
What did you gain from their deaths?
What more do you want?
Was stealing from the taxpayer not enough?
Still clinging to that chair,
still pressing your weight into it?
Will you leave it…
or must we tear you loose?
We watched you through 2G.
3G.
4G.
5G.
Now we are Gen-Z.
And we don’t want you anymore.
This same Gen-Z
can be Zen.
Calm.
Good.
Peaceful.
But this same Gen-Z
can become a storm
if you keep pushing.
Did you think you could silence us?
That bullets could bury our voices?
No.
Cowards.
Big cowards.
Your days are done.
Pack your bags.
Go wherever you want.
Go now.
Before we arrive.
I say I’ll come.
Then I say I won’t.
But one thing is true:
my pockets are full of things I never meant to carry.
The words I hear feel heavy.
Lunch today is nothing.
Someone is ready to fight.
Fine. Let them.
People talk and talk
and keep saying they’re fine,
but everything around them feels off.
So let it out.
Tell me,
what’s hurting you today?
Close your eyes tight
and maybe everything softens for a moment.
Suddenly I’m in a desert,
dry, silent, endless.
Where do you even go
to look for water here?
Come on, climb the camel.
You think you’re cool now.
But it’s burning hot.
You say you need coolness.
I say you need ice cream.
I try to shout it,
but the heat steals my voice.
Here
your foundation cream.
Funny how you slipped on your own dream
while trying to look steady.
A small light flickers far away,
like something trying to reach me
but losing strength.
The lights fade
dim… dim… dim…
as if they’re tired of shining for everyone else.
So I brush it aside,
quiet and certain,
the same way you finally let go
of something that never once held you in return.
Don’t call.
That’s the end.
I’m done for today.
They asked me,
why don’t you jump from skyscrapers
for the sake of humanity?
I looked at their hands
still warm with coffee,
still steady with comfort
and I said,
I would jump from a mountain
if the fall could shake humanity
so hard
that its tremors
traveled through generations
through cradles,
through graves,
through the bones of tomorrow.
The sound I would become
not a scream,
a bang
would send ripples
through the ribs of the cosmos.
You would all be swallowed
by that echo,
only to be returned
as humans with no destination,
no hunger for meaning,
no memory of kindness
alive,
but emptied of love.
NEPHART.COM 