Happy Birthday Carlo
I whisper your name between sips of coffee,
fold you into the linen I hang in the Athenian sun.
Sometimes I imagine your laughter wandering
down these unfamiliar streets,
filled with noise and orange blossoms.
You are not stepping on marble,
not in the future, which I nurture
like my olive tree rooted in Cycladic stone.
You will not walk through the doorway,
or fall in love with the sight of Kallimarmaro
and the evening warmth.
And yet,
somehow,
you are the reason I got here.
I want you to know,
this life I am shaping
with clay-stained hands and a tired heart,
I am making it beautiful,
the way you might have done.
And a shimmer of what could have been
still brushes my skin,
a sting of golden light
clinging to salt-kissed arms.
May 29, 2025
Written by Bianca Bauer
The Rift
My brother died, mid-dream, mid-day.
A future lost, carried away.
A violent end, a shattered breath,
His life undone by sudden death.
And in that wake, the cracks returned,
Old wounds, unhealed, began to burn.
What once was buried, left unsaid,
Emerged like ghosts we thought were dead.
The rift that lingered, faint but real,
Grew deeper still—too raw to heal.
No bridges built, no words to mend,
No hand to hold, no heart to lend.
Tears were shed, but not in sight,
Alone we grieved through endless nights.
The walls we built stood cold and tall—
No home, no warmth, no love at all.
A family lost, a name erased,
Each thread unraveled, torn, displaced.
And though the years may drift and fade,
The scars remain, the price we paid.
Yet somewhere, in the silent ache,
Hope stirs, though fragile, bound to break.
For love, once broken, still might find
Its way through grief, through loss, through time.
December 24, 2024
Written by Bianca Bauer
It was as if I had been cast adrift in the heart of a raging storm,
somewhere in the vast Atlantic, where the horizon had vanished.
In the beginning, I fought—
Fought the waves that towered and broke over me,
their weight like a force I had never known.
But no matter how I thrashed, they swallowed me whole.
And so, at some point, I let go.
I surrendered to the chaos, to the deafening roar of water and wind,
and I sank.
I don’t know how long I drifted beneath the surface—
Days? Weeks? Months?
Time became as formless as the sea.
Eventually, the thrashing stopped.
I found myself suspended in an eerie stillness,
the chaos receding into silence.
And it was there—in that quiet—
that the weight of meaninglessness pressed against me,
cold and endless.
I floated in it,
aching, untethered, and directionless,
no longer certain if life or death held any real distinction.
I saw how fragile it all was,
how everything depended on what we dared to make of it.
September 19, 2024
Written by Bianca Bauer
The storms we weather
I used to feel him in the air,
in little signs, in everywhere.
A song, a breeze, the way light bent—
it felt like more than accident.
But now it’s quiet, still and bare,
like he was never even there.
No whispers, no trace, no sign—
just empty space without his smile.
I thought I’d miss him, ache and turn,
but now there’s nothing in return.
No voice, no touch, no silent call—
just the strangest loss of all.
Not pain, not peace, not even fear,
whats left, the knowing he is not here.
And wondering if time will show
where love like this is meant to go.
January 30, 2025
Written by Bianca Bauer
A Year
The Return
The universe remembers you.
Lay down your name, your edges,
your need to bloom.
The light will come
when you step into your truth.
April 19, 2025
Written by Bianca Bauer