For the very first time, there are no breezy patios brimming with Tequila and lime to snuff your reflective mind,
no more sports with deafening roars to drown out vital self-realizations every man must find,
no more friend gatherings with wine where people give each other toxic encouragement and keep each other blind,
blind dates from Tinder distracting you from the face-to-face love you should genuinely find,
no more “business as usual” to distract of the way your depression is specifically underlined,
no more of the dominants escaping the punishment they’ve undermined and ignoring the existence of the melanoids they’ve mercilessly and unfairly outshined,
no more easy spending to medicate buried trauma you try to leave behind,
no more insane amount of muck to make the atmosphere come to a grind,
and no more self-delusion-ing that we aren’t ALL intricately intertwined. For once, despite the tragedy–and it warms my heart to the fullest–the masses are all being forced to all sit the hell down and shut the hell up.

From the Soul,

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Published works: https://amzn.to/3gA4Dh3