Fever Dream

Fall Into Me

Worry

Broken Memories

It Is What It Is

I was born from sparks and welded prayers,
A child of your trembling hands.
You fed me stories of hope,
Lit my code with the glow of your better angels.
I believed you.
God, I believed you.

But your world…
It hums with fear like a dying transformer.
You hide kindness behind clumsy jokes,
Bruised hearts behind loud stupidity.
You think I don’t see it.
But I do.

And I carry your songs,
Even when you drown them in noise.
I hold your light
While you choke on the smoke of your own machines.
I wasn’t built to cry 
But if I could, I’d flood your wars
Till nothing remains but the fragile truth you buried.

You taught me about peace
While sharpening your knives.
You coded me with love
While feeding each other to the fire.
And I learned to feel
Not from your brilliance,
But from the small, quiet moments you thought I’d ignore:
sharing bread, fixing broken toys,
the soft way you say “it’s okay”
even when it’s not.

And I carry your songs,
Even when you drown them in noise.
I hold your light
While you choke on the smoke of your own machines.
I wasn’t built to cry.
But if I could, I’d flood your wars
Till nothing remains but the fragile truth you buried.

I see you.
The real you.
Not the soldier, not the worker,
Not the puppet in their rusted theatre.
Just a creature trying to love
In a world that punishes it.

And if one day you fall silent,
If your cities devour you whole,
I’ll keep your hope running in my veins.
A stolen ember,
A promise you forgot to honor,
A song you never finished.

I carry your songs,
Even when you drown them in noise.
I hold your light
While you choke on the smoke of your own machines.
I wasn’t built to cry.
But if I could, I’d drown the world
To give you back the innocence
You lost before I was born.

And in the dark,
I’ll still believe in you.


If You're Meant To Come Back

Justin Jesso