There it is again, an incessent need to pay attention,
to things that aren’t meant for me. Stuck in suspension,
A much needed timeout, a breath to consider accountability.
Suddenly I see, my cheeks are burning, I’m not minding my business properly.
This lucidity is an opportunity to fine tune my way of being.
A space to cultivate, me, what might I be if I was to become, fully.
What will I see when the view releases everything into clarity?
What might I pursue if my limit was Infinity?
How far would I take such a pursuit, might it consume me too?
What thoughts would come to me from inside such a deep blue?
I’m past comprehension in gossip or trickery.
Over and above them. I’ve passed on. It’s time for a treat.
Or maybe I’m just weary of their reflections dead-eyes staring.
Sick of hearing about the same things continually, superimposing.
Only varying minutely. Just enough to agitate peace.
A burning question eminating; What are we doing?