Why are you trying so hard, little boy?

The answer has been in front of you this whole time.

something about the culture of hustle has me tripping over my own feet turning the daily affirmations into pools of anxiety and anticipation

writing checks to myself soothing the sore tooth sugar-free redbull and pepto coming into my own person

because sleep is meant for the weak my sheets noxiously embalm
unfinished and unsatisfied work horoscope playing subtly as I drift off to lucid dreams
of work
and lust and more work

not too loud not too soft

but just right

like sand falling through my fingers like the first break of daylight like a home cooked meal with the family I remember the best is yet to come

so, to a new set of chatter yielding the effort of becoming mind with breath and breath with mind

I challenge my own authority soften the grip I am more than I assume soften the grip I give more than I receive ; you already know