are we culminations
of our past selves
cheering us on as we parade
into the ever unknown
or are we happy accidents
ending up where we’re meant to be
no matter where we land
Tag: storytelling
164
space in your day
is carved from within you
woven into how you carry the weight
of every single day and the potential it possesses
because there really is no such thing
as the right time to do something
for there is only time, and
what we choose to do or not do with it
163
you always think that these
monumental occasions will weigh on you
this powerful compound of all your hard work
bringing you closer to this idealistic sense of self
the truth is that sometimes it comes and goes
in the middle of the night
and you don’t realize its there until
you’re sitting on your bed
realizing just how far you’ve come from the start
and that moment you once dreamt of
imagined it in the palm of your tiny hands
all those years ago
is here, right now
162
self-doubt chimes, loudly
at success’ precipice
just drown out the noise
161
the strangest routines are now commonplace
my favourite snacks, delivered to door
no one comes to visit
new voices introduced through headphones
waving goodbye to the computer screen
how has time lapsed like
the world’s fastest stopwatch
you’d swear it was rigged
you’d swear this is ordinary
159
pieces of puzzles
missing something you can’t touch
always calling home
158
step ladder dreams
of moving up in the world and somehow
not feeling bigger.
what is growth without acknowledgement
of what you’ve left behind
saying goodbye to the people you used to be
and opening doors for the people behind you
how happy will we be
when we reach the coveted top
and the sky is blue
and the velvet rope tapers off
the success, palatable in the air
and you end up celebrating alone?
remember the worlds you lived before this
stay humble in your pursuit
and leave the door wide open.
157
some nights when the cold wind calms
the cars stop honking
people kiss goodbye
I imagine all the ways
my dreams are just too full
aspirations just out of reach
maybe this wasn’t meant for me
perhaps I wasn’t cut from this cloth
the wheels screech
my mind goes silent
I wonder why it is
we stop when every light is green
156
like hourglass sand
time is passing us by, and
we’re all just watching
155
enthusiastic approval
of even the tiniest of wins
what a delight it is
to be delighted
I’m always trying to best myself
to always grow and be better
I suppose I should also remember
that to best something is to
once have been the best
and maybe that miniature win
should be enough
