LaMeta

This is migration to love, to God, to self.


God

  • Passenger

    My hands barely touched the steering wheel, half wanting it to steer itself. Head against the headrest, lost eyes. Driving purposeless in the middle of the night was not how I pictured my day ending. Yet there I was. With a knot of unspoken words gripping my neck. Without a purpose, but in search for one. Searching… Continue reading

  • Malfoi

    Let my faith be blind. I begged. I begged as I looked around, seeing everything fall apart. I watched a vase shatter in slow motion. Trying to keep track of where pieces landed, losing much, and focusing on the ones easiest to find. I jumped off the boat, scared of unknown destinations. When the path… Continue reading

  • Stranger At Home

    The clinking of a spoon hit a plate repeatedly. In a way it echoed. He was eating alone, again. I hardly sat at the table. Relying on fruit that would leave crumbs in my sheets, then thrown to the floor when I felt them stick to my skin as I tried to sleep. He never… Continue reading

  • Ripple In Time

    “What does it look like God?” I could hear the question echoing, bouncing between the empty walls of my mind. Lifeless. I do not deserve an answer to a question I created. Ironically, I jumped without having many answers. One being what ripples would spread once I hit the water, how long would they last,… Continue reading