Lately I feel like the truth of my core is what I desire to find. But in doing so I'm losing myself within my own mind.

I lay wide awake in the middle of the night. Attempting to organize the millions of thoughts that keeps my spirit hidden inside.

Running through this maze I wonder if I’ll ever make it out alive. With each divergent view, I tend to follow the obvious path, full of light. I claim a want of honesty. But with each step taken, secretly I am hoping there aren't more demons left to fight. Scared of the dark, for, that’s where the unknown lies.

I travel in circles of what is known to my conscious mind. But, what's in front of me isn't all there is to see and I sense this deep inside. To reach the end, I know I must confront all that I am avoiding. The more introspective I become, the greater the fear is that my soul is what I’m destroying.

Anxiety devours me as I fall more into a pit of uncertainty. My sanity is on the brink of losing all aspiration in sight. The route I am on begins to dim. It seems like there is no alternative trail left that's bright.

So now I pose the question that's been causing these black holes disguised as eyes. When my world turns dark and the path is no longer: Who will I be tonight?

I think there is something beautiful about having a past. Stories that strangers aren’t worthy of. Secrets that lovers might hear in due time.

Perhaps I am too hasty when it comes to revealing my essence. I put myself on a platter to be devoured. All my doubts and fears- my hopes and dreams. Injured and pure loves. All that makes me, I lay with bare. My heart isn’t worn on my sleeve, it is tattooed on my forehead for everyone to see.

There is magic within a mystery. I desire to be more like Houdini. I have heard Magicians never reveal their secrets. But surely they know how transparent to be and whom to trust.

Maybe I do have a lot to say and no one to say it to. But, why is that a bad thing? Always, I am scared of time. Worried everything within is going to rupture me into a demise. It could very well be that everything I wish to speak is not creatively developed enough to be showcased. I must first master the art of concealment. Then reflection. And when the moment is right, when the natural shine blesses its rays from above me as if it is a spotlight- that is when I will gently hand over pieces of the puzzle that will form the tale of my existence.

Only the most remarkable will learn my secrets.

2022

2022

I’ve realized that you can’t possess moments. You experience them once and reminisce the further away they get. It seems as if they fade away. But, I truly believe that they become us. Eventually, like the pink and orange and blue that mixes in the sky at sunset: water color- all those special memories blend together and form the YOU death will meet.

I think love works the same way.

You can’t hold essence. At least not that of another. You must have appreciation of the impact they’ve made within yours.