Meta Even This Arrangement

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.