Paradox of Self

Those who are alive only in themselves—whose existence is the illusionary fabrication of self-determination and the paradoxically destructive work of self-actualization—are perpetually bound to themselves as source, unable to turn to the world around and too occupied with the frantic, unending work of fashioning their own image. Being slavishly occupied with such pursuits, they are…

You Found Me

Waiting for you to be here. For him. For us. For me. I stare. A reflection of my apathy. My soul an empty cavity cut by torrents raging too long. And it feels like you’re long gone. I’m on time borrowed and unwanted. Abandoned to live in the shadow of death in sorrow upon sorrow.…

An Unexpected Providence

Chaos. Unrest. The enemies of peace and unwanted guests in my mind. Please cease! They suffocates and bury, accomplices invisible. But I’m too blind to see them because I’m trying be visible. Unbreaking clouds of confusion covering my view of the conclusion of things I wish were untrue. Death, too soon, has clinched your daughter,…