They tell me not to dream again,
life is quickly slipping
and my hands are barely gripping.
They tell me stillness is intoxicating,
the voices in my head are breathing.
Some sort of life says,
"who will trust you?"
Stop talking, start thinking.
Stop thinking,
just be.
And I can't
though I can
and the restart button
feels pressure again.
Still another voice,
"Exhausted?
How are You not?
Nor Your mercy,
Your love?"
"No one can exhaust this
though many have tried."
And "Thank You" is all
I can reply.
Let's restart,
not so that we can get away
with it all again.
So we can find out,
what is this life?
where do I go next?
If you're trying
to follow me
I'm a miserable leader.
If you're not confused yet,
perhaps you
should be my teacher.
And one
last thing
before I leave you:
intimacy is far
from me because
the TV is stuck on
fast-forward.
