Desire

The art of letting go?
I thought I had mastered it once.
Then I allowed this world
To soften me.
And now? 
Now I hold onto things that
May well not exist.

“I wish to weep,
But sorrow is
stupid.
I wish to believe,
But belief is a
Graveyard.”

Hang onto that
Which we know…
Is nothing without chance.
And chance is but digging a hole,
To bury ourselves in.

The very death of me,
Will be my own hope.

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