Essence of Others — Jaded

Carrying the weight of broken discharge,
blood-tears from a heart used and undone,
categorized by the enders of whispering plants,
puddling up with splashes of memories.
Hazy air brushes the backdrop,
fluttering with hazel dew.
I break beneath the mathematics
of untuned sorrows—
wandering echoes of forgotten time,
fractals of longing spiraling
through unsolved equations.
Each sigh, a variable misplaced
in the theorem of love.
I reach for the essence of others,
their laughter, their silent wounds,
woven into the fabric of my unraveling.
Yet even in this shattered arithmetic,
there is beauty—
a whispering plant growing through the cracks,
a puddle reflecting not just sorrow,
but the shimmer of something whole.