Identity crisis

Words by Jahin, 20 NSW

There was a period in my life,
during high school,
when a sense of belonging,
equated to liquid gold.

Sitting side by side,
uniformed in similarity,
Feeling whole and cherished,
Being a ripple in the sea of voices.

That was what my heart longed for.

But after years of trying to mould myself for others,
I realised the hole of self-deprivation
had unknowingly seized at my feet,
drowning the boy that wanted to swim free.

The tunnel is long and hollow,
inevitable whispers sway in the air,
A musky stench of deviated dreams,
the walls suffused with the scars of untapped joy.

The fortune of time,
surges past the grime,
A flame wavering in the murk,
carrying distant promises.

As of today,
I long to remain in the moment,
The simplest caress from the wind,
relishing giggle-sprinkled faces,
A constant reverie within the orphic murmurs
of the morning breeze.

The opulence of comfort
is truly an unsung blessing,
Like bees flying towards daisies,
That is my liquid gold.

Illustration by AileenYou can find more of her work on Instagram @aileenetc

Posted in