Palm Sunday, 2021

Where are you? Drunk on floor, again. I’m here fading fast while all of my fucks on you are over. Raku to you. I cut you off to your own misery. It was clear when I last saw you that your universe was yours and mine wasn’t welcome in. And I started loving me. Lick my own wounds at night in my solo bed. It’s fine, really. Leave me here until you see the light. And honestly I’m done believing in fake love where it would take so little to have the best of me. Yeshua- you love me more, to a point of completion to overflow. Maybe I should start a movement. Maybe take training with the mountains. Listen to the ocean, ascend to a higher frequency. I’m ready for you. Just waiting on you. But time is running out. Depression hits my head like a 2×4 and it takes me into my feels where mixed states unbalance me but then I remember. Will you remember? Or will you stay stuck in your monotonous status quo of comfort? Wake up. The world’s on fire.

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