the only thought
on repeat
is of simple
love and joy
but i lost faith
in expressing either
as no one cares
unless they can
their own pleasure
from the words

so instead
i choke them down
hoping for something
so the animals
are sated
the beauty
is only attractive
when they believe
it is them

but the pain?

that shit is universal

sometimes i worry
has overtaken
in people’s priorities

what kind of world
does that create?

someone else’s joy
costs you

buddha said —

holding on to anger is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die

there is beauty
in the filth
we are already dirty
why not dive in


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