Poetry of the Hunt

We’re all hunters.

Even the ones pretending they’re not.

We wake up every day and go chase

something we don’t even remember choosing.

Money.

Status.

Followers.

Another thing to buy

because someone told us it will make us feel enough.

A new phone.

A new car.

A new reason to say

“I’m doing alright”

even when we’re not.

We don’t hunt for food anymore.

We hunt for approval.

We hunt for a life that looks good on the outside

while we rot quietly on the inside.

They call it success.

I call it a trap wrapped in shiny lights.

We’re so busy running

we forget what we’re running for.

We forget love.

We forget respect.

We forget that the real gold isn’t sold in stores.

They make us believe

our bank account is our worth.

Our job title is our identity.

Our possessions are our trophies.

But nothing you own

can save you from feeling empty.

I’ve been there.

Chasing validation like it’s oxygen.

Thinking I need to catch something big

to prove I deserve to breathe.

But here’s what the hunt taught me:

the real battle is inside.

Your value isn’t printed on a paycheck.

It beats in your chest.

It’s how you show up

when nobody’s watching.

One day I stopped running their race

and started hunting truth.

Hunting myself.

Hunting a life that feels real.

Because what’s the point

of catching everything

if you lose the only thing

that matters?

The hunt continues.

But now…

I choose what I chase.