Mornings

I wake up with sweat on my forehead.

The head, a place secluded from the rest.

The rest of the world looks into my eyes.

Eyes above too, vicariously view my life.

A life that seems to make no sense.

A sense of purposelessness is what exists.

I exit these thoughts and start preparing.

A preparation for stepping into the world.

A world that seems to be an empty vase.

The space above seems to be devoid.

And I hesitate to step into the void.


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