Ride It Through

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Sometimes
the thought slips in quiet,
like a shadow that knows the room better than I do
wrap it around a tree
end it
cut the film before the credits roll
real quick
no questions
no aftermath
—but then—
something in me pushes back
If you do that… that’s it.
No resolution
No twist
No proof that any of this ever meant something
just… fade to black
mid-sentence
And that’s when it hits me
pain isn’t some glitch in the system
it is the system
it’s the tax for being conscious
for feeling
for knowing you're here
It’s ugly, yeah
not the kind you frame or post or romanticize
but the kind that grips you
and forces you to notice
this is life
not polished
not fair
not gentle
but real
And maybe that’s the point
because being alive
isn’t about it being easy
or even good all the time
it’s about staying on the ride
even when it dips
even when it rattles your bones
even when you’re white-knuckling the whole damn thing
because you don’t get to see the end
unless you stay
and for better or worse
that ending…
is yours to witness
—not skip.

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