Here I am on an island of paradise
A place of beauty-
It's quiet. It's clean. It's green.
And I feel nothing.
I fear I have lost the ability to have my heart broken open
to experience any form of
pure beauty,
joy,
rapture.
I have lost my grit.
My rumble.
I sit in a place of stillness.
Quiet.
Of the mind.
Accepting the simplicity.
It can't be explained away with words.
It would sound silly if I tried.
As I watch people spend years of their lives on a grind I do not seek.
Sound off,
I back away.
I am the outlier.
Widdling away that which I need,
turning my back towards souvenirs.
And yet I am heavy.
I have weights.
My body moves slowly.
I am no longer buoyed,
nor lifted,
nor tethered.
I float,
or drift.
Accepting the new now,
which sits in my place of
these new abandoned shoes.
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