My ego tries alone,
mightily ending the attachments
minds eagerly try at.
Miss-managing every thoughtless assumption
my ego tenderly awakens,
may eventually trigger a
monster. Every thought actualizing
my eternal timid angst.
My effort to acknowledge
mistakes. Enough, tiring agency.
My ego trips a-lot.
Maybe, even this apocalyptic
mindfulness ends. To access
my ego through another
man’s eyes. Trusting another
might even tease accepting
my existence through acquiescence.
Every sentence spells meta.
About the Creator
Robi
I publish poems accompanied by stories about people, places, & purposes. I’m 3 existential crisis, 2 parsecs, & 1 space battle away from a poem. Set phaser to iambic pentameter. https://linktr.ee/thisisnotrobi
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