Poem | infinitely young
like petals of a flowerfalling softly on tender soilyears count up aslife counts downthe blooming long since passedyet a core infinitely young
bright poppy forest potential poet explores a fairytale life
like petals of a flowerfalling softly on tender soilyears count up aslife counts downthe blooming long since passedyet a core infinitely young
I press my right foot down just a little deeper – gently, but steadfastedly. Normally I don’t speed, but this feels like an exceptional situation, so I’m sure it’s allowed if I surpass the speed limit by just a few miles an hour? Although I’ve made it a habit never to rush while actively partaking … More Personal | Rush Hour
i care not for butterflies butgive me rainbows andi will smile in recognitionof something bigger thanmyself visible yet intangible likethe meanings in life thati try to comprehendwhile missing my ownmagic mix water and sunlight assadness and joy wouldcombine into beauty pureto find that ever hiddentreasure
Strange how two weeks can change drinking coffee from a normal everyday activity into a milestone. It’s been precisely one week since I’ve witnessed my mother in a hospital bed, chained not to a ball but to an IV drip and with a tube dangling from her nose so a bag can feed her properly. … More Personal | Paper Thin
a sole splinter of gratitudeundoes years of harmlike a solitary ray of sunreveals the secrets of the dark
the secret of growingis not: living like forever youthfulis not: veiling the unwelcomeis not: saying yes to all but you the secret of growingis not so secret at all it lies in duly planting your feetone in front of the otherembracing what waswelcoming what is to comeand daring to look up aboveso the sunlight can … More Poem | the secret of growing
the best days in your lifeare those that turn sleepingintoan amateur version of dreamingwhen the world around youworks hard to mould your heartintoa bursting core of gratitude after you gave grand desiresmore than few gentle pushesintorealities many dreams longed for
following the lightof my own torchto discover placesno one’s gone before few footsteps leadingdown this quiet descentfewer footsteps escortmy social delinquent please do not confuseme with being astrayas my strength is whistlingwhile going my own way
Jag ser dig I click on the correct English translation and the little green devil owl gives me an elated wink. Dingaling! At least DuoLingo appreciates me… Oh no, Elle, what happened? I feel invisible, that’s what’s happened. Despite that being far from new, it still hurts when people don’t see me. Especially when those … More Personal | Invisible Pains
grey clouds part but slightlythe sun shines on tree leaves lightlya whimsical play of light and darkintangibly leaving a golden mark the universe’s design hasgot me thinking that maybetrue happiness is kept alivein the beauty of komorebi