It steals laughs
It seals cries
It steals connections
Possibilities, futures
Faces from hands
Hands from backs
…
The author and site owner can be reached at leeundercedartrees@gmail.com.
I'm a middle-aged nobody breathing one day at a time in Ontario, Canada.
This tiny corner of the Internet is an outlet for unmasking random thoughts and creations surrounding life in general, adventures in budō, and any other topics that come to a ridiculous mind.
"Through journaling, your voice cannot go unheard."
It steals laughs
It seals cries
It steals connections
Possibilities, futures
Faces from hands
Hands from backs
…
There’s rarely fights
(We’re too solid for that, after all)
There’s just insidious malcontent
Morphing into anger first
And then, sometimes, madness
Turned inwards, burning from the inside out
…
Re-reading calmly:
poems written months ago
feel like yesterday
Old words remembered:
today they make me wonder
if I’ll ever change
Some friends are closer than others. Supposedly, so-called “soulmates” (people often only use that word in the context of romance and sex, but that’s not the only application of the term) can come in various forms, including friends and even family — I’ve been learning about the concept of “platonic soulmates”, where people have a very close bond with a friend for which there is zero romantic interest or sexual attraction. These are supposedly the friends you can truly be yourself around, who actually, honestly accept you; who you may have a great emotional intimacy with; who are there for you through just about anything imaginable; who help you really discover who you are, both good and bad. They bring so much benefit into your life, and with less up-and-down volatility (better word??) than can come with relationships of a romantic nature.
I can think of very few people who have come close to this throughout my life…
But I think I may have found one now, and I’m as terrified of losing it as I am grateful to have it.
In the corridors of your presence
I find four heavy doors
Behind the first
If I want to make thoughts real
Can form the words
And can synchronize the throat
I do
Behind the second…
How sad is it, that
love can grow without limits
while time only shrinks
How your voice somehow seems richer to me when you say their name
How your eyes look different in ways my mind cannot quite fully grasp
When you speak of them
When you share with me the plans your heart carries
Of your greatest possible future
…
After over 35 years of masking, I don’t know who I am. I crafted what is probably a partially false persona to grow into and I don’t know who I would be if I had never done that. I still have a deep-rooted fear of learning something about myself that wrecks me, and I think I may be somehow terrified of finding that I’m really just someone I hate underneath everything. Or finding something that just plain hurts.
May 14 – 15, 2025
If you always choose as you’ve always chosen,
you’ll always receive the same reward.
We breathe by virtue of accident,
at chance’s mercy.
Resting fate’s hand in yours,
curl up in your cocoon
as comfortably as you can.