Author: Jacob Roggensack

rain doesn’t ruin.

some claim that rain ruins days-
washing away plans
as if they are not meant
to be rinsed sometimes.

as if the sky is not allowed to cry,
too full of emotion and struggle
to continue to shine and prosper.

one small puddle,
a forgotten umbrella,
or even just a rolled down window
and suddenly they hate it all.

but why view it with anger
and not beauty?
the dancing on rooftops,
flowing down hills,
shimmering in streetlights?

don’t hide from it-
embrace the joy from when
we were once young.
get soaked,
jump in those puddles,
celebrate the beauty of nature.

grab her hand and dance
in that empty parking lot,
laughing,
loving,
and remembering that this is
the beautiful world we live in.

make these moments worth it.

live without anger.

live with joy.

🧳

i tucked my life into a suitcase,
shirts still holding the shape of my hangers,
memories tucked between zippers.

the floor creaked like it knew,
but no one else did.

no note.
no goodbye.
just the soft click of the door
closing behind me,
like a breath held too long.

the morning was gray,
grass still full of dew,
and the silence
finally had a chance to speak.

the car started up,
a slow cry as if
it was pleading for me to stay-
to at least tell them my thoughts.

goodbye would have hurt too much-
made me second guess
and likely stay.

the road is smooth,
humming as the adventure begins.

epilogue

the windows stay shut,
but the breeze still finds its way in-
an unwanted whisper through the cracks
no one bothers to seal.

the branches claw at the roof,
like Death attempting to
take the last breath
i never wanted to keep.

some mornings,
the mirror forgets to show me
at all-
reminding me how
empty i am.

and the storm clouds-
they keep lowering themselves,
inch by inch,
like they’re trying
to carry me quietly
away.

maybe i should let them.

i think i will.

those three words

no singular language is enough-
enough to describe
my passion,
my desire,
my need.

to most,
three words suffice.
to me, however,
there are endless ways
to show my thoughts.

in Irish, they say “A chuisle mo chroí”-
the pulse to my heart.

in Italian, they say “Sei il mio tesoro”-
you are my treasure.

in Spanish, they say “Mi corazón es tuyo”-
my heart is yours.

in French, they say “Tu es tout ce que j’ai toujours voulu”-
you are everything i’ve ever wanted.

to me,
you are so much more.
you are the brightest star
in the vast galaxy above,
the single flame that lights up my world
more than the sun ever could,
the sunflower that takes my hand
and guides me towards the light.

in your eyes,
no map could ever save me
as i lose my thoughts outside of one dream-
𝑌𝑜𝑢.

no one phrase will ever be fitting
for what you deserve to hear,
but i will never stop speaking them.

i̶ ̶l̶o̶v̶e̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶

💓

death whispered once,
too close, too cold,
its shadow brushing my skin,
and for a moment,
i thought i might disappear.

but something pulled me back-
a heartbeat, a voice,
the raw truth
that i wasn’t ready to let go.

i’m scared of death,
scared of its silence.
but you’re stuck with me now.
even when the tears come,
i’ve decided to stay.
living, even broken,
is a fight i plan to win.