Ineffective.
Lost.
Sinking.
Stagnant.
Stupid.
Bad.
Liar.
Forgetting.
Forgotten.
Lost.
Unimportant.
Fake.
Weak.
Torn.
Confused.
Fragile.
Shameful.
Shameful.
Guilty.
Bad.
Guilty.
Guilty.
Shameful.
Guilty
Guilty.
Shameful.
Shameful.
Sad.
Sad.
Sad.
Sad.
Sad.
Shameful.
Sad.
Sad.
Sad.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Gentle.
Sad.
Gentle.
Gentle.
Gentle.
Sad.
Gentle.
Gentle.
Forgiving.
Gentle.
Steady.
Forgiving.
Forgiven.
Still.

Cool and not cold,
damp and not raining,
late and not over yet,
quiet and not silent,
a quivering stream of 
far away tunes from 
a far away land 
sing me back 
​awake.

From limited to limitless,
one way to every way,
the opening left me
gripping the edges of the 
floors like I had 
something to lose.


​Silly me.

I'll tie a string to my wrist
to remember this.

Follow instincts or patterns, or 
feelings or shoulds. 
Do what you can.
Leap.

Or pause.
Wait.

The dawn only comes
​when no one is watching.

The return is the point
of growth. To re-know,
re-let go, is 
to breathe life upon
oneself, in ceaseless,
​gentle sighs.

"Other people are excited, as though they were at a parade.
I alone don’t care,
I alone am expressionless, like an infant before it can smile.
Other people have what they need; I alone possess nothing.
I alone drift about, like someone without a home.
I am like an idiot, my mind is so empty."
— Lao Tzu

A thousand doves to mark the empties,
you know the kind-vile, burning, white.

Make haste you seething, sucking waste spaces. 
Be gone.

Intangible, unimaginable, 
a settling back into
the formless, vastness,
limitless possibilities.

The breathing goes beyond
the individual body,
to a greater pulse, 
a cycle of energy.

I breathe. I watch. I am.