#silentreflection
There is nothing to ask of anyone,
nothing left to claim.
I sift through the fragments of memory;
whatever I find, I leave behind in silence.
Around the edge of the world
I draw a circle of emptiness,
lock myself within it,
and watch all other voids unfold.
I wonder—
are you emptiness,
or am I?
If not, then perhaps
every soul is nothing but empty.
Sep 14, 2025
Sep 14, 2025 at 2:45 AM UTC
i could tell the time at an early age;
yet, i could never tell the misery
of the hour hand of the clock -
that lies in wait...
for what i imagine,
must feel like an eternity,
at the mercy of the minute hand
to finish a full round -
as it is, in turn,
at the mercy of the second hand;
only to move but a
fraction of an inch on its axis:
so it can be worthy of its name.
surely, it’s the loneliest of
the three hands;
yet, perhaps, also the wisest -
for it knows what’d happen
if it ceases to move -
even for an hour, as it were.
you see, the illusion of a moving clock
is maintained only by the hour hand.
the minute hand could stop for a minute -
and we wouldn’t mind much;
the second hand could stop for a second -
no harm done;
but if the hour hand stops for an hour -
well, we’d notice.
i can never really tell the time now;
just the hour in which i exist.
Dec 20, 2024
Dec 20, 2024 at 10:29 AM UTC