When Laughter Is Still

My Tesla beneath the Milky Way — motionless, but never without direction.

Some nights, the noise fades and what remains is the weight of memory. Yesterday left more than questions—it left a silence loud enough to listen to. This poem was born from that space. It’s not about loss or blame, but a quiet confrontation with the world I’ve built, the love I’ve given, and the choices still before me. In this stillness, I ask: what does it mean to keep going, even when laughter is gone?

It’s me. It’s my world—and I still want to taste it.
I’ve held joy like steam in a cup—
brief, warm… then gone.
But I drank every drop,
even when it burned,
even when the cup cracked in my hands.

I told the sky my secrets,
parked beneath the stars in silence.
No music this time. No echoes.
Only questions,
and God—still listening
when no one else would.

When laughter is still,
I become what I must—
not by gift, not by chance,
but by choosing not to run
even when I was left behind.

— Poem written by Jet Mariano

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