Showing posts with label Chris Biscuiti. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chris Biscuiti. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 24, 2026

What I Kept, An Ode to Empathy by Chris Biscuiti

 

Gabby K - Monstera Production

An Ode to Empathy


I didn’t choose a word

by looking ahead.

I found it

by noticing

what stayed

when everything else

fell away.


It showed up

in hospital lights

and quiet kitchens,

in long afternoons

that asked too much,

in nights where writing

was the only place

my breath could land.


It wasn’t loud.

It didn’t trend.

It didn’t promise growth

or ease.


It asked me

to stay.

To listen

when I wanted answers.

To soften

when the world hardened.

To keep showing up

for a child who taught me

that presence

is its own language.


I wrote through the swings—

the days that lifted,

the days that bent me,

the days that did both

before noon.


I wrote to make room for her—

sweet, earned, earnest, Empathy

for my family,

for myself,

for anyone reading

who needed proof

that care can coexist

with exhaustion,

that love doesn’t disappear

just because it’s heavy.


If there’s anything

worth marking,

it’s this:

I didn’t numb.

I didn’t rush past.

I didn’t turn away.


I stayed curious.

I stayed kind.

I stayed human

on the page.


And her quiet presence—

quixotic as it is—

is what carried me

through the year.


© Chris Biscuiti


Enjoy more posts by Chris Biscuiti HERE.



Chris Biscuiti

Chris Biscuiti is a poet, caregiver, and Dad to his son Bray Bray. Chris' poem The Believer won the 2025 BREW Poetry Project Community Poem of the Year, and his poem The Hours was published in FLARE Magazine, Issue 4. Connect with Chris on Substack  https://chrisbwrites.substack.com 

Tuesday, May 26, 2026

A Thousand Versions by Chris Biscuiti

 

NISHIT DEY


A Thousand Versions


Being a caregiver

has carved a thousand versions of me—

the steady one, the tired one,

and 998 more

sculpted by my calloused hands.


Writing is the place

I gather them all,

stacking their shadows and bruises

until I recognize the outline

of who I am beneath their weight.


When I put a day, a week, a year into words,

I see strength I didn’t know I spent,

I feel muscles I didn’t know I strained,

a resilience built quietly in the background 

of every waking moment.


I see the softness, too—

the part of me that refuses to die out,

the flicker that outlives the exhaustion.


His persistent smile keeps me anchored

when the current tests my footing.


I sail toward the sound of his belly laugh,

and even the waves surrender

to his unseen power,

washing me ashore.


A thousand versions of me carved,

bound by one common thread—

he was born to be my miracle,

the singular piece

they all can’t live without.

© Chris Biscuiti


Enjoy more posts by Chris Biscuiti HERE.



Chris Biscuiti

Chris Biscuiti is a poet, caregiver, and Dad to his son Bray Bray. Chris' poem The Believer won the 2025 BREW Poetry Project Community Poem of the Year, and his poem The Hours was published in FLARE Magazine, Issue 4. Connect with Chris on Substack https://chrisbwrites.substack.com 

Tuesday, April 28, 2026

Cologne by Chris Biscuiti

Darina Belonogova


Cologne


I thought I’d teach you how to shave

as you ask me about cologne
you’d say it’s only men’s perfume
we’d laugh, I’d hold that sound like stone

I know I’d miss you as you grew
you’d go to Binghamton like me
we’d talk briefly between classes
I’d stare at the empty driveway

You’d come back around in due time
filled with mid-20’s hopes and fears
you’d swear you think you found the one
we’d talk about it over beers

We’d never forget your big day
your mom would cry during the vows
we’d pop champagne, I’d close my eyes —
I wake up now to laughing sounds

You’re happy and clapping in bed
and today you reach for my hand
I transfer you to your wheelchair
you smile as if to thank me

I thought I’d teach you how to shave
and you’d ask me about cologne
we won’t laugh over men’s perfume
I hold your bravery like stone

© Chris Biscuiti


Enjoy more posts by Chris Biscuiti HERE.



Chris Biscuiti

Chris Biscuiti is a poet, caregiver, and Dad to his son Bray Bray. Chris' poem The Believer won the 2025 BREW Poetry Project Community Poem of the Year, and his poem The Hours was published in FLARE Magazine, Issue 4. Connect with Chris on Substack https://chrisbwrites.substack.com 

Featured Post

Here are the days of small things by Dorisa D. Costello

Ioana Motoc Here are the days of small things a cup of cold water, a blanket for a cold night, a kiss to warm cold comfort We were warned a...