I keep falling
and falling
all over again
into the trap of
self-pity

I am not kind enough
I am not skilful enough
I am not caring enough
I am not enough

is this true
you tell me to ask myself
who does
your self-pity serve

what exactly am I
aiming for
why this misery
when I could just
be
do good
be loving

sometimes it is indeed
so hard
to be loving
to be even kind


*

my heaviness
the heaviness
of my body
my body


does not obey me
it hurts
it wobbles
it pushes me
to the ground

the gravity
seems suddenly to be
too much

my body
the heaviness
of my body
my heaviness
suppresses me

what if
I would let myself
be suppressed
what if
I would not
resist

what if
I would lie
face down
on the ground
underneath
my heaviness

to be
in silence
with my self
is actually
not so bad
it’s warm
and dark

even the heaviness is now
more equally
distributed

my body is
my heaviness is
still
my home
my suppression

 

*

 

eat
move
sleep

then everything
does not
hurt so much