#figuringitout
Quick to fold into myself — these are the cards I’m keen to hold.
I’m playing the game of life, love, and growing old.
“Here are your cards, son.” But no one taught you how to play.
_No rulebook, no dealer’s grace_ — just silence and a seat at the table.
So it’s up to you to figure it out, __Kassan__ — learning to deal with
regret while life deals you more hands of hardship to accept.
Go on — place your bet. Will you find success? Will you chase the
dream? Will you even get a shot at love when every reason still
shoots you down? And would you risk it — even after every loss
you can count, forgetting how many wins you once held close?
You deal with the hand you’re given. But even the purest heart holds
the dirtiest intentions — _so by extension_, you might be playing
with a ***** hand. Still, we all play into this game we call life. It’s a
poker bet, a __Crazy Eight__, where you don’t even get to declare.
So you study the faces life deals you and wear a poker face to keep
your tells in check.
Don’t count your gains too early. __Take them home to count__ —
slowly, privately. Don’t get robbed by the table just for showing
what you’ve earned. And the casino only closes when you leave.
The lights stay loud and lovely from across the street, but there
are no clocks inside. _So you better watch your step_.
Because despite how it looks, this life smiles, knowing **** well
__it’s not a friendly game__.
Jul 3, 2025
Jul 3, 2025 at 6:05 PM UTC
Hold my hand
And keep me steady.
I'm feeling weak
I'm not ready.
I thought I could
Be big and strong,
But my mind is fuzzy
And I was wrong.
Feb 18, 2020
Feb 18, 2020 at 3:53 AM UTC
time is always moving forward
and everything changes
but what is meant to remain consistent
is still unclear.
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 9:03 PM UTC
If my blood stayed blue
I'd be prettier for you
I'd sacrifice myself
To keep the fighting few
Yet my blood stays red
So I'll lay here in my bed
Writing poetry for us
Because I'll love you till I'm dead
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 2:46 PM UTC