Photo by Ahmad Odeh on Unsplash

The Transitory Nature of Self

It seems as though I am 
in a constant state of transition.
People come, people go, but
nothing ever really changes.
Perpetual motion until a greater
force propels me in another direction.
I ache to find stability in earthquake
friendly regions.
Why do I open myself to such heartache?
I must've been a masochist in another
time, another place
Doomed to repeat the biological
imperative of limbo
My karmic punishment for
some unknown wrong
So I'll continue to feel hopeful
for something else.

Ready to consume a creative writing podcast?

Subscribe to raconteuse radio via your favorite podcast app!

This small but mighty podcast examines how words on the page sound different when the creator brings the words to life. Join me as I celebrate all the diverse emerging voices that I can find, and the industry folks behind the scenes too. Want to be featured? Submit your pitch!

It’s time to step into the spotlight.

Icon of a hand, hoding a pen, writing love, peace, and adobo grease, Guilliean