Living in MY Own World

As the semester comes to a close I find myself in the same position, living in my own world, often avoiding the loneliness of reality. The air fills with a cool breeze and the night's beautiful dark sky falls upon us earlier; making for beautiful companions, ones who always seem to be there and listen. I spent my 21st birthday this weekend with my best friend, the shining moon in the sky and ate cake amongst the celestial bodies₊˚✶⭒. Although being alone isn't something I often speak of, there is a certain beauty to it, so I decided to encapsulate it in a poem.

" The Liminal Bloom "

In the quiet, a pulse arises—soft and without origin, as if the world itself exhales in slow recognition of something unseen. A single thread winds through the vastness, unbroken, a tether to nothing, yet heavy with the weight of its own existence.

There is a beauty in this solitude, raw and unsettling, where the edges of thought blur into the horizons of the unreal. The stars do not speak, but their silence is a language, full of sharp corners and hidden curves, each constellation a question that has never needed an answer.

Hands reach out—not toward another, but into the fabric of being itself, tracing patterns woven without purpose, finding symmetry in the asymmetrical, harmony in the discordant hum of aloneness.

This singularity unfurls, a phantom blossom in the void, its petals opening not in yearning, but in the quiet surrender to becoming.

To dwell alone is to hold the weight of eternity in the palm, to trace the faintest flicker of radiance and know it as the universe itself.

꧁⚬–––───────── ✧₊˚.⋆⁺₊ ✩ * - ⊱❀ ⊰ - *✩₊˚.⋆⁺₊✧ ─────────–––⚬꧂