Outside the Self

For once I look outside the self,

to find sweet words of poetry.

No painful rhymes upon the shelf

to pen a bitter tragedy.

*

To find sweet words of poetry,

I must leave memories behind.

To pen a bitter tragedy

would be traveling back in time.

*

I must leave memories behind.

Unwelcome words, ruining what

would be. Traveling back in time

brings nothing to the plot.

*

Unwelcome words; ruining what

I really meant to someone else,

brings nothing loving to the plot.

Today I look outside the self.

* * *

Originally published at https://medium.com/the-lark/outside-the-self-152bd122edb6