Hypersensitive, emotionally reactive,
casting aspersions through projections,
stuck in this same old game again.
Mole hills to mountains
is a sick sort of evolution.
Something out of nothing:
just the ways of my universe.
Inner sadomasochism masked
by delusions of persecution.
Quiet the tantrum of the inner child
with the too-big eyes
and Cheshire smile.
Follow the breath, suck
in the smoke, pop
the prescribed and just find
your way back to calm.
Talk to yourself,
always talking to myself.
Wasting energy
fighting wars
I am just recreating.
Riding echoes, feeding echoes.
Just stop.
Step back, look at myself.
It’s here and now and that’s all over.
Forgive, grow, nurture solutions.
In some ways, important ways,
we’re too much alike,
you and I,
perhaps how we have treated
each other
is how we handle
ourselves.
