Detritus

I am peacefully floating in a sea of serenity;
gazing at the sunset, searching for my identity.
When are we truly ourselves, just ourselves completely?
I am a diluted version of myself, only being me discreetly.
What was once seen as serene is now defined by anxiety. Continue reading

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Hunting the Hunter

She’s running. She’s screaming unintelligible cries for help, out of shock, in fear. She’s wearing a nightgown of baby blue, barefoot, running in the middle of a street I recognize. I know that house with the brown trim. I know that tree that hangs across the road, dipping into the street, barely leaving enough room for a car to drive underneath. This is the neighborhood I grew up in, Continue reading

My Broken Rose-Tinted Glasses

If someone looks at something through rose-tinted glasses, they see only the pleasant parts of it.

This is a phrase that’s been coming up a lot lately, in a uplifting sense. I’m being told to see myself through rose-tinted glasses because I’ve always Continue reading