Searching for something within nothing,
As wild as it may sound
Is a fortuitous journey in itself.
Many times multiplied by many more
I end up with only an idea in my lap
Looking down at bare palms, as they shine up to a blue sky
I am left with nothing unyielding to take refuge in
Nothing organic enough to sense my sentiment or devotion
I will be left sitting here alone, eyes dropped ….shoulders lowered
Feeling as if I went everywhere, and nowhere at the same time
Sometimes finding nothing is finding something.
So many times I hold onto fragmented pieces of my mental conquests.
Each piece holding an unnecessary amount of space in the cupboard that is my mental body.
And every following day I do my best,
to purge the relics from the day before.
There I am, repetitiously clearing my cupboard.
Hours upon hours collecting trinkets,
Only so that I can spend hours upon hours casting them into nothingness.
With the hope that one day I will realize that the trinkets were never what I was searching for in the first place.
I was always searching for the empty cupboard.