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Daniel Long wrote a new post
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Read MoreRealism is a distant, flickering star. I know not what the tastes of reality are. Some will share this glimmering sky with me, and to them, fortunate enough to see a surrealist, star-blanketed day-sky. I abide by the lonely confines of the only home...
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Daniel Long wrote a new post
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Read MoreIt is a firestorm that rages and whirls within my body, that no hand of sanity can smother. My innards burn, my blood boils, the flesh upon me bubbles. Sane, as I may have been before, the virtues that encased this body with innocence has long but...
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Daniel Long wrote a new post
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Read MoreAs I remember, I learn to forget the buoyant memories that linger. When I am foundering, I resurface, only to drown in the world’s stigma. As masking as the calm, glassy sheet segregating this pond of thought is, this curtain between dreams and the world has...
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kesnerfreds wrote a new post
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Read MoreSo stain—as marks that remain longer than intent,and hesitation pressed into the grain. Second guess,doubt’s small fracture widening,as though the Voice were drowned,as though we mistook the silencefor absence. But sustain is not the clean note held—it is the rough edge,the...
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Hey Fia, I think you’ve captured the heart of it beautifully. The poem is holding onto a truth: that even when it feels like silence or loss, we’re not ourselves erased. What seems like absence is often a hidden kind of leading, and the very marks we carry become proof that we were being guided all along. Something like that.
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So, you’re staying that nothing is gone and even though it may feel like you’re losing it, You should stay fast because you are not erased but being led down a path you cannot see? That is what I get.