Casper

What is called a shield? Why would I be oppressed by one? For one does not know the deeds Of a double-edged sword. So am I in the midst of smoke. What do we call an honor? Is that our offsprings who must carry our legacy? For we were never taught to create one, But only to carry one. What is called a path? How do I design one at my spawn point Before learning the journey with me? For we were lied to— To see the world through a race, To compete and win, Ceasing away the joy of existence. What is called to exist for? If I was really made aware Of the games of this place, What am I more than a random coin Tossed on a board? What calls itself? The ones who know the game, And those who know the capacity of a coin— More than what the game rules set. Coins were designed a role against their will Before they were brought to life. But existence isn’t the thing— Rejoicing the life and breath In spite of the role A third person assigns to me. What is called a g...

🎤  How Hard It Is to Dream the Big   How hard it is to dream the Big. Not just  big dreams . But the  Big  — the kind you can’t explain without choking on it. The kind that swallows comfort whole. From the beginning, I never knew how to shrink. Never learned how to think small. How to fold myself into the shape of  enough. I never fit. And I never wanted to. I stood still— while the world moved on— holding the pain of leaving people behind who couldn't carry the Big with me. I've lost a lot chasing the Big. Time. Skin. Love. Restless for it. Dying for it. Numbing myself just to keep chasing it. And now I ask— have I forgotten how to cherish? Have I forgotten how to feel? Because there’s no shelter under this rain. No warmth when the Big is pushing and pushing and pushing me— blind. Numb. Empty-handed. I’ve forgotten what the world tastes like. I’m not like others. I wasn’t made to  taste  the Big of the world. I was made to  bring  a...