almost in poetry
- Dec. 11, 2014, 11:11 a.m.
- |
- Public
We kill present joy through needless overpreparation
We kill future joy through needless devotion to arbitrary self-definition
We kill past joy through needless roiling boiling endless introspection
We kill joy
But joy does not die, really
Joy plays possum
Joy lies in wait
For when we’re ready
To toss out all that overthinking
And just breathe
I’m almost ready
I’m almost
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