poetry
-
A poem about what happens when the things we bury refuse to stay buried – and begin asking for a place of their own.
-
What if we are not the bodies moving through this world, but the awareness inside them – here simply to witness, feel, and experience?
-
My greatest fearis not that I will drown. I’ve made uneasy peacewith deep water. It’s that I’ll climb from it,kiss my children goodnight, and leave behind just enough seawateron my skin for themto wonder someday why they’re thirsty.
-
Do we age out of relevance,or just out of being looked at first? Do softening faces lose their gravity,or do they finally stop performing light for people who never intended to stay? If beauty fades,does truth get louder? And when the mirror stops shouting youth, what part of us begins to speak? ©️ 2026 LimitlessStimulus.com
-
Just one flawed person.Just one human being…whose frequency harmonizes with my own. Not because we are identical,but because somewhere beneath the noise…our fractures ring out in the same key. Your loneliness humming like a prayer.While I hum wonder like a wound.And somehow, together,it becomes music instead of ache. Not destiny.Not fantasy.Just… recognition. Like two tuning…
-
This poem tears apart the illusion that weight gain equals happiness. Beneath a “healthy” body might be something starved, hollow, and quietly decaying—an inner life no one bothers to see. Dark, raw, and unapologetic, it exposes the cost of being visibly fine while starving inside.
-
A poem about doomscrolling, nervous-system triage, and eating a cream-cheese-loaded bagel while the world burns—because being human is horrifying, sacred, and absurd.
-
A philosophical poem exploring time, perception, and consciousness—blending science, Hermetic philosophy, and existential reflection to question whether reality is fixed, or simply a frequency we’ve learned to believe.
-
We cling to our perspectives like crowns and call them truth. But what if every viewpoint is just one color in a much larger spectrum? A poetic meditation on certainty, ego, and the quiet power of multiplicity.
-
A meditation on collective reckoning and the paradox of revelation. The Tragic Beauty of Sunlit Dust explores the quiet grief — and strange grace — of seeing what was always there once the light finally enters the room.
limitlessstimulus.com 