I have never loved another. I am incapable of this task alone.
I have not even loved a cat, a dog, a tree, myself, no one.
There may be channel for love through release, but I don’t have to look around that corner. That corner will come to me, not my business.
It is arrogant to imagine I know what love is.
The ones I am supposed to love by all earthy definition walk by me and at times I feel nothing but annoyance. I might get a painful inner heart squeeze even at the sight of them, but is that love? At times I only see reflection. At times I don’t even see. I am unable to define and perform in accordance with what I think that love is. I love no one, no thing, nothing!
I release this idea of love. I release the word. I release.
And when I do, I am just here.
I can get still enough to stop doing what I think love should look like.
I’m left with only the senses, not the thought.
I am free to not love ever again as me.
Yet I am still here;
nothing has changed visibly,
though perhaps I sit up more as the weight of performance is taken off my back.
Mirrors mirrors on all sides
you magnify what is not
and let me simply be here.