one's friendship.

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I have not yet become bored of my own friendship, a solstice of one’s communion. in this freedom, it is quite estranging. i feel like someone else entirely. i am a foreigner in my own landscape and it is taking me so long to get to know who it is that lives inside of me.

with all my motivations altered, inspiration is not exactly easy to find. it is not held in a sun’s rays and a passing cloud. it is beheld in intimacy and courteous conversations with one’s soul. still, I disappear and I cannot find who I’ve been.


they say find your inner child. find your spark. find that melodious charm in you. but it is inexistent. it has somewhat withered away somewhere. an exile.


I have for so long built a life on the ashes, and it made me so happy. those few joyful moments every now and then were everything I needed to stay alive and at peace. little moments before sleep, spending time with God and dreaming of love. I am afraid I built a life upon fantasies and a longing for little moments spent with the truth.


it is real now, everything I had dreamed of. but the soul is wounded. it requires a deep understanding. a deeper knowing. it hurts to be in this body and in this life, attached. I long for freedom and resurrection. I long to feel eternity in my bones and no longer find myself astray from the truth.


I long for my own friendship, where it is I should find God’s voice in me. His truth. His love. I long to watch all my memories fade in rivers of His mercy and little by little, find myself healed.

going with grace in an inscrutable world.

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