joet
@joetryinmotion.bsky.social
just a silly little side blog where I wanna post stuff I’ve written. main is @haveitjoeway
They’ll know the sound
Of a room holding its breath The sound of how a story frays right before it breaks
Until then I keep the corners dusted the windows clear and the signals small enough to miss
Of a room holding its breath The sound of how a story frays right before it breaks
Until then I keep the corners dusted the windows clear and the signals small enough to miss
August 14, 2025 at 4:38 PM
They’ll know the sound
Of a room holding its breath The sound of how a story frays right before it breaks
Until then I keep the corners dusted the windows clear and the signals small enough to miss
Of a room holding its breath The sound of how a story frays right before it breaks
Until then I keep the corners dusted the windows clear and the signals small enough to miss
Sometimes I let a sentence fall
where it doesn’t belong
A stone in the middle
of their smooth road
No one trips on it Not yet But I imagine the one who will and the pause that follows
No one trips on it Not yet But I imagine the one who will and the pause that follows
August 14, 2025 at 4:38 PM
Sometimes I let a sentence fall
where it doesn’t belong
A stone in the middle
of their smooth road
No one trips on it Not yet But I imagine the one who will and the pause that follows
No one trips on it Not yet But I imagine the one who will and the pause that follows
We speak of weather
Repairs that can wait
Everything except
what’s under the floorboards
I smile in the doorway Wave as they leave
Then close the latch softly so it doesn’t sound like closing
I smile in the doorway Wave as they leave
Then close the latch softly so it doesn’t sound like closing
August 14, 2025 at 4:38 PM
We speak of weather
Repairs that can wait
Everything except
what’s under the floorboards
I smile in the doorway Wave as they leave
Then close the latch softly so it doesn’t sound like closing
I smile in the doorway Wave as they leave
Then close the latch softly so it doesn’t sound like closing
I tell them I’ve been busy
They nod, relieved As if the days will keep me from drifting too far out
The coffee cools on the counter I leave it there all afternoon Watching the steam fade like it never belonged
They nod, relieved As if the days will keep me from drifting too far out
The coffee cools on the counter I leave it there all afternoon Watching the steam fade like it never belonged
August 14, 2025 at 4:38 PM
I tell them I’ve been busy
They nod, relieved As if the days will keep me from drifting too far out
The coffee cools on the counter I leave it there all afternoon Watching the steam fade like it never belonged
They nod, relieved As if the days will keep me from drifting too far out
The coffee cools on the counter I leave it there all afternoon Watching the steam fade like it never belonged
Just in time to say goodbye.
July 23, 2025 at 9:34 PM
Just in time to say goodbye.
I want to believe
you left knowing me.
The real me.
Even if only for a breath.
Measured in weeks instead of years. But I ache with the weight of having arrived.
Measured in weeks instead of years. But I ache with the weight of having arrived.
July 23, 2025 at 9:34 PM
I want to believe
you left knowing me.
The real me.
Even if only for a breath.
Measured in weeks instead of years. But I ache with the weight of having arrived.
Measured in weeks instead of years. But I ache with the weight of having arrived.
Regret doesn’t scream.
It hums low and endless.
Like a room never stepped into
before the house collapsed.
You never asked me to be smaller. That was me, thinking I was doing us both a favor.
Like a room never stepped into
before the house collapsed.
You never asked me to be smaller. That was me, thinking I was doing us both a favor.
July 23, 2025 at 9:34 PM
Regret doesn’t scream.
It hums low and endless.
Like a room never stepped into
before the house collapsed.
You never asked me to be smaller. That was me, thinking I was doing us both a favor.
Like a room never stepped into
before the house collapsed.
You never asked me to be smaller. That was me, thinking I was doing us both a favor.
And I grieved anyway.
Still do.
Not just you
but the time I didn’t give us.
I wonder what it could’ve meant if I’d trusted you sooner. If we’d had more time instead of so little.
but the time I didn’t give us.
I wonder what it could’ve meant if I’d trusted you sooner. If we’d had more time instead of so little.
July 23, 2025 at 9:34 PM
And I grieved anyway.
Still do.
Not just you
but the time I didn’t give us.
I wonder what it could’ve meant if I’d trusted you sooner. If we’d had more time instead of so little.
but the time I didn’t give us.
I wonder what it could’ve meant if I’d trusted you sooner. If we’d had more time instead of so little.
I told you then.
At last.
Because time
was no longer a theory.
You smiled like it wasn’t news. Held my hand like I hadn’t been missing.
You smiled like it wasn’t news. Held my hand like I hadn’t been missing.
July 23, 2025 at 9:34 PM
I told you then.
At last.
Because time
was no longer a theory.
You smiled like it wasn’t news. Held my hand like I hadn’t been missing.
You smiled like it wasn’t news. Held my hand like I hadn’t been missing.
I smiled around it.
Laughed through it.
Became fluent
in avoidance.
But something shifted when you got sick. The countdown started, and my voice cracked open.
But something shifted when you got sick. The countdown started, and my voice cracked open.
July 23, 2025 at 9:34 PM
I smiled around it.
Laughed through it.
Became fluent
in avoidance.
But something shifted when you got sick. The countdown started, and my voice cracked open.
But something shifted when you got sick. The countdown started, and my voice cracked open.
So I kept it quiet.
A small truth, pressed between pages of other people's lives.
I became a quiet version of myself.
It was easier to be a silence
than a disappointment.
A small truth, pressed between pages of other people's lives.
I became a quiet version of myself.
It was easier to be a silence
than a disappointment.
July 23, 2025 at 9:34 PM
So I kept it quiet.
A small truth, pressed between pages of other people's lives.
I became a quiet version of myself.
It was easier to be a silence
than a disappointment.
A small truth, pressed between pages of other people's lives.
I became a quiet version of myself.
It was easier to be a silence
than a disappointment.
I told myself
you already knew.
That I didn’t need
to say it out loud.
That it didn’t matter. Not really. Not without someone else to point to.
That it didn’t matter. Not really. Not without someone else to point to.
July 23, 2025 at 9:34 PM
I told myself
you already knew.
That I didn’t need
to say it out loud.
That it didn’t matter. Not really. Not without someone else to point to.
That it didn’t matter. Not really. Not without someone else to point to.
I used to practice the words
in the dark.
How I’d say them
if I ever got brave.
Not loud, just… Real. But years passed in muffled rehearsals.
Not loud, just… Real. But years passed in muffled rehearsals.
July 23, 2025 at 9:34 PM
I used to practice the words
in the dark.
How I’d say them
if I ever got brave.
Not loud, just… Real. But years passed in muffled rehearsals.
Not loud, just… Real. But years passed in muffled rehearsals.
But I don’t.
I can’t.
I’m afraid he’ll answer.
And it’ll sound like me.
July 17, 2025 at 3:31 PM
But I don’t.
I can’t.
I’m afraid he’ll answer.
And it’ll sound like me.
I see him sometimes
in windows that don’t reflect
or in the lag
between my thoughts.
When I cry, he doesn’t comfort me. He just watches, like he’s waiting for me to ask.
When I cry, he doesn’t comfort me. He just watches, like he’s waiting for me to ask.
July 17, 2025 at 3:31 PM
I see him sometimes
in windows that don’t reflect
or in the lag
between my thoughts.
When I cry, he doesn’t comfort me. He just watches, like he’s waiting for me to ask.
When I cry, he doesn’t comfort me. He just watches, like he’s waiting for me to ask.
People still ask
what the coma was like.
I tell them it was quiet.
And that’s true.
But it didn’t stay quiet. Not afterward. Not once I came back with company.
But it didn’t stay quiet. Not afterward. Not once I came back with company.
July 17, 2025 at 3:31 PM
People still ask
what the coma was like.
I tell them it was quiet.
And that’s true.
But it didn’t stay quiet. Not afterward. Not once I came back with company.
But it didn’t stay quiet. Not afterward. Not once I came back with company.
He waits for cracks.
Moments I’m too tired
to pretend I’m whole.
Then he gets closer.
Not to hurt me. But to remind me there are still pieces I never brought back.
Not to hurt me. But to remind me there are still pieces I never brought back.
July 17, 2025 at 3:31 PM
He waits for cracks.
Moments I’m too tired
to pretend I’m whole.
Then he gets closer.
Not to hurt me. But to remind me there are still pieces I never brought back.
Not to hurt me. But to remind me there are still pieces I never brought back.
And when I forget,
he doesn’t.
He keeps it all
so I don’t have to.
I used to think he hated me. Now I think he’s just patient.
I used to think he hated me. Now I think he’s just patient.
July 17, 2025 at 3:31 PM
And when I forget,
he doesn’t.
He keeps it all
so I don’t have to.
I used to think he hated me. Now I think he’s just patient.
I used to think he hated me. Now I think he’s just patient.
He remembers the dreams
like they were real.
The house with too many doors.
The people with wrong smiles.
He remembers the voice I didn’t hear but still understood. The hallway that never ended. The garden with no light.
He remembers the voice I didn’t hear but still understood. The hallway that never ended. The garden with no light.
July 17, 2025 at 3:31 PM
He remembers the dreams
like they were real.
The house with too many doors.
The people with wrong smiles.
He remembers the voice I didn’t hear but still understood. The hallway that never ended. The garden with no light.
He remembers the voice I didn’t hear but still understood. The hallway that never ended. The garden with no light.
But no.
It left something open.
And he walked through.
Or maybe I brought him back.
He doesn’t age. He doesn’t speak. But he remembers. That’s the worst part.
He doesn’t age. He doesn’t speak. But he remembers. That’s the worst part.
July 17, 2025 at 3:31 PM
But no.
It left something open.
And he walked through.
Or maybe I brought him back.
He doesn’t age. He doesn’t speak. But he remembers. That’s the worst part.
He doesn’t age. He doesn’t speak. But he remembers. That’s the worst part.
He never touches anything.
But I feel it when he’s close.
Like static
in the shape of a body.
The first few years, I thought I was losing it. I thought maybe when I died it left something fractured.
The first few years, I thought I was losing it. I thought maybe when I died it left something fractured.
July 17, 2025 at 3:31 PM
He never touches anything.
But I feel it when he’s close.
Like static
in the shape of a body.
The first few years, I thought I was losing it. I thought maybe when I died it left something fractured.
The first few years, I thought I was losing it. I thought maybe when I died it left something fractured.
I don’t check the corners anymore.
There’s no point.
He’s always there,
whether I see him or not.
It’s easier now, the way he lives in the background. Not hiding. Just polite.
whether I see him or not.
It’s easier now, the way he lives in the background. Not hiding. Just polite.
July 17, 2025 at 3:31 PM
I don’t check the corners anymore.
There’s no point.
He’s always there,
whether I see him or not.
It’s easier now, the way he lives in the background. Not hiding. Just polite.
whether I see him or not.
It’s easier now, the way he lives in the background. Not hiding. Just polite.
Some nights I wake up
and it’s too quiet.
Not peaceful.
Just… waiting.
I lie still and listen for something breathing just out of rhythm with mine.
I lie still and listen for something breathing just out of rhythm with mine.
July 17, 2025 at 3:31 PM
Some nights I wake up
and it’s too quiet.
Not peaceful.
Just… waiting.
I lie still and listen for something breathing just out of rhythm with mine.
I lie still and listen for something breathing just out of rhythm with mine.