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