#loopingthoughts
I made a decision— it lingers, enshrouding my mind; the crescent
of burning delight pulls at tonight’s darkness, as a flicker of light,
but also sliver of fright. My skin burns under its weight, while
wisdom crowns me in sleep; I dreamt of it all— and still, I woke
up uncertain.
On the hot tarmac of my dreams I’m nothing but gravel, caught
beneath the speed of passing lives. _Small. Unnoticed._ Wishing
to be seen— but wishing is a two-edged lie; a blade that glitters
hope yet cuts down to thought.
There’s a verse written in every tear, a scripture memorized by
sorrow, and the ocean inside me pours outward, salt and prayer,
a flood no shore can contain. And still, somehow, I give birth to
these shallow poems— though maybe shallow is just another way
to say they carry depth beneath the surface.
In the end, I return to the same place: the edge of decision, where
all of it—a dream, a wish, or a word— is nothing, until I choose.
And so I made a decision— a circle closing on itself, the beginning
rewritten, the same words, but now carved deeper in stone.
Oct 6, 2025
Oct 6, 2025 at 3:41 AM UTC
1st step.
2nd.
3rd—
...pause.
2 steps back.
reset.
again.
again.
How does it end?
I ask
like I haven’t already
broken the answer
in my hands
a hundred times.
One moment,
I swear I see the path—
lit, clear,
like maybe I was meant for more.
The next,
I’m sinking into myself,
slow,
silent,
like grief with no name.
Hope is a ghost
I keep chasing in my sleep.
She never stays.
Not for me.
I smile like it means something.
Breathe like I’m not
falling apart
every second I’m awake.
No one sees
the cracks I carry in my chest.
I call it progress,
this pretending.
But it’s just
a prettier way
to bleed.
How will it turn out?
Maybe it won’t.
Maybe this—
this looping,
this aching—
is the only ending
I’ll ever know.
Apr 21, 2025
Apr 21, 2025 at 6:08 PM UTC