Delightful Trash


Always on our way somewhere
we exist
in such a rush
so afraid
no one notices us
we don’t notice ourself
how much we expect
from everyone else

Our hearts are hollow

we’d prefer to fill them
with delightful trash
shallow pleasures
rather than
to slowly treasure
and allow all
the joyful pain in

We crush our heads
full of nervousness
addictive doubts
speaking thinkings
drinking thoughts

to fill the lovely void inside
to hide and resist
appreciating our
blesséd weightlessness

would we embody
the empty cup
the conduit
yielding instead
to the spirit
should it choose
to move through us

but we get stuck
in our beliefs

that discomfort
is disease
so we run

by playing dumb

but how free
we can become

instead of numb

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