You Don’t

You find your people and they become your circle of warmth.
You get comfortable because they are like you.
You trample others because you have no empathy.
You say you might come but you hardly ever show up.
You don’t want to commit because it will mess with your freedom.
It’s like you’re adding layers of cushion to your already comfortable life.
You say you have the right to choose.
You wouldn’t have that choice if someone didn’t commit and fight for your freedom.
You wouldn’t be able to choose if someone didn’t do the hard stuff.
If someone hadn’t chosen you instead of themselves.
You say that in some small way you are doing your part.
No, you are not.
You can’t even sit and listen to someone.
You don’t know what it means to love.
You don’t know how to give the way your mother gave.
Anyone who in the slightest way challenges you becomes ‘awkward’ in your book and you avoid them.
You only want placid waters.
You want to stay where you are and get the prize for participation.
Being comfortable makes your bones brittle,
It ages you.
When you are gone, your footprints will go with you.
They will blow away like dust.
When you choose yourself, you are picking up the lightest weight.
You will have touched no one.
No one will even know you were here
Taking photographs of yourself,
Curating a mold that is disposable.
So don’t say you know.
Because you don’t.


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