#searchingformeaning
Chances seem high that I sink so low tomorrow— where
do I return the belongings of my skin, stitched too tight
with sin? And is there a good intention I can borrow?
To call love a bullseye, but it's just something darting past
me; for a lap dog on the leash of longing can’t run free—it
only circles the grass. As I fuel my odds at a gas station lot;
feathers searching for a birdie; practicing my golf swing,
hoping for a hole in one— or just putting one in a hole.
"Find a stable life," they say, but the horse track is empty,
where hooves never sound, and only echoes of betting slips.
Online, some search for a type, the screen listening to the
type of fingers. But knowing is never seeing, and belief
needs more than a glow of pixels.
"Good grief"— so cried the one who buried their beliefs,
but they still dug the dirt back smooth, as if planting a
seed for tomorrow. Till we're gone, we'll always have
tomorrow.
Sep 17, 2025
Sep 17, 2025 at 4:07 PM UTC
I am lost — __without a horizon__. Tell me:
what is it like to live without a conscience?
Learning how to freefall in the golden patterns
of parachutes, each moment feels like sunrise
blooming in my eyes.
Dreams are like aged photographs, as we
live in their flat silence, posing in fragments,
dancing around opinions in wide, unguarded smiles.
But under a blasting sun, its rays hit like bullets
piercing ivy-orange through my chest — _autumn-hued_
wounds that hope to shimmer like the gleam of sunset.
So I gather what glows, from scattered light and broken
frames, trying to make warmth from splinters, and to name
it hope. _Even in freefall, there’s beauty in how we land._
Aug 5, 2025
Aug 5, 2025 at 1:34 PM UTC
Love is confusing these days
Some say it never stays
The others claim
It only comes after some time,
When you and your partner
Left the infatuation behind.
Some say Love is spiritual,
It is the truth, the energy,
that holds the universe in an embrace...
It was always here
and in our hearts it remains.
Each verse shows me
Whatever love means
or is meant to be -
I know less and less
But at least I confess
My pure unknowingness
Sep 18, 2024
Sep 18, 2024 at 8:12 AM UTC