The Rehearsed Oracle is a cycle of eleven poems tracing the tension between performance and truth, fracture and renewal. Moving from riddles through collapse and self-destruction to eventual clarity, it confronts the exhaustion of masks and the inevitability of becoming the self that endures once the curtain falls.

the show

It is past midnight now. The world has quieted, and so have I.
This is the longest silence I have taken between words, and perhaps I owe you—reader, witness, confidant—the aftermath. Some of what lives here are feelings I still carry; others I’ve already folded away, tucked under the silver curtain. But even buried, they leave a trace.

The Rehearsed Oracle is not a confession so much as a staging: a playbill of gestures, rehearsed lines, and masks worn long enough to feel like skin. It exists in the tension between performance and truth, between the self that stands under the lights and the self that lingers in the wings. At times the script holds; at times it fractures, spilling light through the cracks.

The poems move through hours of dissonance—fateless nights, counterfeit consolations, the repetitions of grief and memory. And yet, what surfaces is not escape, but clarity: the recognition that no matter how carefully we rehearse, we circle back to the truths we hoped to outrun.

What is rehearsed enough becomes indistinguishable from fate.

gallery