What We Don’t Say: Writings and Poetry by Travis Ordway

09/23/2026

Life is a campfire.

You decide
how long it burns,
how brightly it glows,
when it smokes,
when it smolders,
and when it finally goes dark.

People will pull up a seat
beside your fire.

Some will stay awhile.
Some will stay a season.
Some will stay until
nothing remains but
ash and embers.

And that’s okay.

Not all that find your fire
are meant to stay.

Some will come
just to share the warmth.
Some will pass through
and never see your glow again.

And then there are the few.

The ones who notice
when your flames are flickering.

They simply bring wood.

Pull up a chair,
sit beside you,
and help you
get your light back.

There’s also the ones
who try to put it out.

They will bring water.
They will throw distrust
into your flames.

They will tell you
your fire burns
for all the wrong reasons.

Let them.

It’s your fire.

Not everyone will
understand its warmth.
Not everyone will
appreciate the dance
of your flames.

Don’t let someone else’s water
extinguish your fire.

There will be visitors.
Passersby.
Fire-builders.
And fire keepers.

Some will leave ashes.
Some will leave wood.

It’s your fire to tend.

Protect it.

Feed it.

And when your flames
start to flicker,

don’t let your fire smolder.

-tso

09/07/2026

You’re tired.

Not the tired
a good night’s sleep
will fix,

or a cup of coffee
will jolt,

or a vacation
will recharge.

You’re the tired
that settles
into your bones,

sinks
into your soul,

strangles it,

and doesn’t let go.

It’s heavy—

so heavy
it pulls you under.

It’s the tired
that lingers
like an unwanted guest,

overstaying its welcome
because it knows
you’ll never ask it to leave.

The tired
that never gets to rest,

because you still have to show up.

Smile.

Pretend.

Keep moving.

You wake up tired.
Go to bed tired.

The world doesn’t stop
just because you’re exhausted.

So you keep going.

Because this tired
isn’t just something you feel.

It lives in you.

That’s the tired
you are.

And nobody
can see that.

-tso

08/24/2026

The weight is heavy.
The tasks are endless.

The days are long.
The nights are restless.

You’ve run a marathon
juggling multiple schedules,

leaving 137 tabs open
inside your head,
each one waiting
for you to get back to it.

23 unread work emails,
three in draft,
and four you’re ignoring.

You’re going a hundred miles an hour,
running on fumes.

You just want a break.
A brief moment.

A moment of
independence,
quiet,
rest.

A moment of support.

It’s not asking for much.

But you’ve become
the default.

The one everyone needs.
The one everyone calls.
The caretaker.

So you swallow it all.

Silence the noise
and march on.

Because that’s all
you’ve ever known.

So you continue
the same cycle.

Neglecting yourself
for the good of others.

You keep asking
the same question:

Why am I not getting
what I need?

Maybe that isn’t
the right question.

Maybe the question is:

Am I asking
the right person?

-tso

08/20/2026

I used to smell you
in the bed sheets.

Now they only hold
the lingering aromas
of the memories
of what we were.

My dreams were
once sweet.

Now,
without you,
the demons storm
the gate.

A closet
meant for clothes,

now holds
permanent residence
for the skeletons
of the past.

Now every night,
I stare upward,

your eyes replaced
by burnt-out ceiling lights,

waiting—

waiting for them
to illuminate the darkness
that has encapsulated
my soul.

This heart is cold
when you’re not in it.

-tso

08/17/2026

You know what
you need to do,

but you negotiate
with comfort.

Anxiety hits
and paralyzes you.

So instead,
you continue on.

Fake face,
fake smile.

Trading happiness
for peace,

dreams
for standards.

Accept trying
as good enough,

and good enough
as love.

But you don’t realize—

you’re already
doing it alone,

it’s already
stressful,

and you’re beginning
to hate yourself.

So why be
dragged down,

underappreciated,

overstressed,

devalued?

Set yourself free.

Let go.

Let go of the noose
he’s kept around you,

around your happiness,

your health,

your future.

Be free.

-tso

08/06/2026

07/29/2026

My lady,
so divine,

help me
escape the cold,
whispering pines.

My head is heavy
beneath the crown.

All these voices,
but
none your sound.

I long for
your hand

in love,
in trust,
in forever.

In mine.

So reach out.

Pull me from the waters I tread.

Be my light,
your gentle glow,
your beauty.

Forever,
my lady,
so divine.

-tso

07/15/2026

A piece of me
died that day.

The moment I
let go of your hand.

The last time
I saw you
take a breath.

The night,
time forgot to move.

I walk lighter now,
yet somehow,
I feel so heavy.

The days no longer shine
the way they once did.

Nights find me sooner now.

My heart no longer keeps
the rhythm,
the hymn,
it used to sing.

My smile,
never used to be
forced.

Laughter came naturally,
then silence
learned my name.

You earned wings,
I inherited grief.

There are conversations
we’ll never have.

Fights
we’ll never finish.

Memories
we’ll never make.

I lost a piece of me
the day you died.

-tso

06/22/2026

As I reflect
on Father’s Day
this year,

It weighs heavily,
but it’s humbling.

Emotionally.
Mentally.

In growth,
and in guidance.

We’ve lost some
since last year.

To age.
To sickness.
To the darkness.

As fathers,
our goal is simple:

Show up.
Believe in them.
Fight for them.

Keep pushing forward.

No matter what.

No matter the battle.
No matter the war.

The smile on their face
can ease
the most excruciating pains,

even when
the scars remain unseen.

So cherish
the moments,
the memories,
the laughter,
and even the tears,

because time
is a thief
and offers no guarantees,

and it waits
for no one.

June is
Men’s Mental Health Awareness Month,

and it’s not lost on me
that we celebrate dads
during it.

The silent burdens
we carry.

The battles
we rarely speak of.

Tread water
so they can swim.

The weight
we were taught
to shoulder alone.

But some traditions
deserve to be left in the past.

Break the cycle.
Break the stigma.
Break the curse.

Not for you,
but for them.

Show them strength
where you were taught
to hide.

Be a foundation
when they need
a home.

Be here
for the next.

-tso

06/09/2026

She wakes

still recovering
from yesterday,

running on fumes.

Already behind.

Breakfast,
laundry,
schedules,
deadlines,

balanced
on shoulders
still searching
for rest.

Day in,
day out,

while cramming
for another meeting
she can’t afford
to miss.

She keeps
everything moving.

A wizard
being two places
at once.

She has to.

Nobody else
is coming.

On the outside
she smiles,

but inside
she’s frayed,

patience thinned,
energy fading.

She needs a break.

She earns it,
every day.

But slowing down
feels dangerous.

Because if she stops,
what else stops
with her?

She’s tried
to speak,

to share
the weight.

But her words
fell on deaf ears.

A working mom
feels alone
in a full house.

One she
holds together.

Without notice,
gratitude,
or rest,

until sleep
finally finds her.

She wakes.

-tso