One hates oneself
for what
one has ever done

One hates oneself
for all
the never done

One even hates oneself
for fantasies
one might have not yet done

One hates oneself
for hating
all of it

But still calling it on
and on
unavoidably wanting it

The one is me
the one is you
come, break through

Happiness dies
        Excitement dies
Love dies
              People die.
                                  .
                        ­               .
                                           .
                                   And we get over it,
But our hearts don't.
                                  And
                                      so
                                        our  
                  ­                            souls
                                                      die.

You are too sweet

How do i stop my heart
From falling for you

The path of the egoic mind will never bring happiness