You have not known what you are.
You have slumbered upon yourself all your life.
Your eyes have been as much as closed most of the time.
What you have done is already in mockeries.
The mockeries are not you.
Underneath them
And within them,
I see you lurk...
You have slumbered upon yourself all your life.
Your eyes have been as much as closed most of the time.
What you have done is already in mockeries.
The mockeries are not you.
Underneath them
And within them,
I see you lurk...
-Walt Whitman
18.10.15
i am no poet
HOW I WISH there’s a more convenient way to express your deepest thoughts in a way that your walls remain intact, without exposing how vulnerable you really are. Like how poetry thrives in ambiguity and speaks of truths that lurk behind words, obscured from everyone but you.
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