killing time
I’m looking for something I can’t find in a place I’ll never find it.
On a phone.
In an app.
My story about the story of my perfectly curated li(f)e.
In a post
with the most
words in the caption.
For the algorithm.
For the hits to hit
hard.
And the likes to pour in.
Just wait…
I’m looking for something in a place I can’t find it.
It’s not in there.
My hand is addicted. And I get lonely.
Don’t worry, it’s not an epidemic. Just a thing of note I’ve noticed recently.
I do love being alone. I love it all. That’s okay, right?
I’m looking for something in a place I can’t find it.
Time and time again.
Touch, feel, experience, believing in something out of the ordinary. If I let myself go.
Or is everything ordinary in the end? I’ll find out. Unless I keep looking in a place I can’t find it.
Here. On this phone.
Sitting. Between 4 walls. And so much clutter. Searching and scrolling so I forget to feel.
I don’t want to feel. Not today. I want to get away.
What I’m searching for is in the air - the air I breathe that hovers in a dance with the trees. That gives life - that gifts breath.
It’s in the touch of fur on an animal and the way they smile at you. It’s in their ever present presence and forgiveness.
It’s in the ocean. It’s in the ocean, blue, as the salt beats against my skin healing the inside. Over and over. Again and again. Like the first time. Caught waves, like feelings, where disillusionment fades and I am grounded, swept up by my mother
Nature.
It’s in the stars. Dead but alive.
Dark at night I search for them and they search for me. They’re looking for me as much as I’m looking for them. It’s a push. A pull. A pulsating rhythm.
Hold on gently stars, if you want to get me out of my comfort zone.
I’d like to travel the world. Let’s make it so I don’t have to fake it. Or be hidden away. Afraid to press play.
It’s in music -
the sound the sky makes
raindrops
outside a door. Or a window.
Wet grass on my feet. Slimy and neat, it greets my toes.
That’s when I wanna hold on the most. Skin, flesh,
thunder, lightning gleaming, but I keep forgetting
there’s nothing to hold. That’s okay, right?
The thing I’m searching for is here, always right here
tied together with what I can’t see and don’t fear
My body in tandem.
Hope gives death an escape.
On this phone, a glimpse of home but it’s not there. I will not find it.
I was looking for an answer.
Type it in and let it out.
Word it differently this time. Keep searching. Maybe that will change the results.
Or put it down and look all the way up. It might not be okay but that’s okay. We weren’t meant to do all this anyway.
Looking into a screen to save me. Oh baby. That’s not good.
I’m looking for something I cannot find. I cannot fix what’s in my mind with my mind.
So I blur my eyes into night until they hurt. And do it all over again the next day.