20 Years Old

To shed a layer of selfishness, watching it fall to the ground beneath me
in flakes that wail as I brush them aside and step away from myself.

To bathe in sweetness, indulging through every pore with chocolate
and chemicals that make me hazy and happy and full of what feels like love.

To release the images pooled inside me of a future dedicated to desire,
clearing space for empathy and Earth.

To freely toss my heart toward those so effervescent that I know it will be returned to me,
effortlessly shared and warmly reflected.

To use my love as a sculptor for those whose figures have been hardened over the years to stone,
patiently, arduously chipping away at pieces in hopes that underneath lies something more.

To fill my one life with experiences that run so deeply through my body that I am numb
to environments that feed resentment and sadness which clog veins like sticky mold.

I’ve grown up to fear that these lifestyles don’t mix.

Can someone chase after both goodness and bliss?

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2 Comments on "20 Years Old"

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Nadeem Qazilbash

Indeed a question often asked and rarely answered. The path is here in our parlors and streets, not in a monastery.


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