A Rut. 

I hate that I think of you. 
Nothing but you in the long silences. 
Bludgeoning myself to death. 
Measuring myself worth by your touch. 
And I can’t even blame you, 

not at all. 
This is all my fault. 
Filling my mouth with Buddhist chants. 


Stuffing my head with silent meditations.


Trying to silence the madness. 


It’s not going anywhere,

immediately. 


Brief,

Brief,

Relief. 

Then the rolling crash. 
Wonder where you were last.
Why must I be so insecure. 
My sanity lost in a blur.
Everything is out of reach. 
And I’m in the middle, marooned on this island is me.
I can’t recognize anything,

Anymore. 
I look so tired, I’m wasting. 
For the wholeness I’m craving. 

Not even self love can fill me 

up.
So far out of love, deserted in my rut. 

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